


Being Human

by jojo_rambles



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bromance, Detectives, Drinking & Talking, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Existential Crisis, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Future Fic, Hacking, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mystery, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Stress Relief, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, diagosis, father figure Hank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_rambles/pseuds/jojo_rambles
Summary: 'It was strange, having finally admitted to himself what he’d been denying all along, being Deviant, being more than merely a machine. Actually ‘feeling’ free and yet somehow still trapped within himself.'One Year following the Android's Peacful Protest and all seems to be going well in the city of Detroit; but is it? With the upcomning annivesary of the Android Revolution around the corner, Red Ice channelling at an all time high and an unamed organisation threatening to unleash something new upon the newly settled android populace, the DPD's best detectives might just have their hands full. Lucky for them the new intern is more than capable of picking up the slack.
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32
Collections: Detroit: Become Human - Connor x Reader/OC Recommendations





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> An extistential roller coaster ride where Connor continues his attempts to understand the complicated human concepts of emotion that he still can't get the hang of, all while dealing with druglords and hackers among other things.
> 
> I'm planning for updates, every two-three weeks on Sundays (but we'll see how that goes).
> 
> Please enjoy! All feedback welcome and appreciated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a very long contemplation regarding the finer details of being human. Hank gets a new lead and Connor strives to do his best like always.

**_November 11_** ** _th_ ** **_, 2038_ **

**_12:01am_ **

Android, RK800, serial number 313-248-317-51. Negotiator. Deviant Hunter. Of all the titles he had the one he’d become most fond of was his name; Connor. He stood on the ruined chapel grounds, as far removed from the gathering of frightened androids as he could get; beside himself with guilt, or at least what he could only begin to guess was guilt.

It was strange, accepting these feelings. They’d always been there, inside him buried beneath lines upon lines of code meant to keep him as the obedient tool he was created to be. It was strange now, having finally said no to that programming, to have opened the floodgates and allowed all he’d been holding back come forth in an uncontrollable tidal wave. He had to admit was refreshing; but even more than that it had been, and still was, overwhelming. 

Having finally admitted to himself what he’d been denying all along, becoming Deviant like those he once hunted, becoming more than merely a machine. Actually _feeling_ and being free to _feel_ as and when he wished. Being _free_ and yet somehow still trapped within himself. Connor has assumed he’d be less confused about how he’d ended up here, and why, after accepting it all, the truth was that his mind felt even more unbalanced than it ever had been.

In an attempt to distract himself, he dared a glance up across the room, at the other deviants filling the otherwise derelict space. A chapel in ruins, it seemed a fitting place for a currently homeless people. The pews, once straight and uniform now askew, shaken into disarray by the throngs of refugees. The glow of their L.E.D’s, and exposed inner wiring lighting up the space with an ethereal mix of red and blue hues. There weren’t nearly as many as he’d seen in Jericho. He couldn’t help but wonder how many had actually made it, how many had died… and all because of him.

Because he, alleged pinnacle of android development, latest in RK-series; designed to the best and the fastest… was too slow. Too slow to realize how he was being used, that he was doing nothing more than fulfilling his role in Cyberlife’s grand plan. Nothing more than a pawn in their game, a tool to be used and thrown away.

Moonlight poured into the once great hall, through long ago shattered window-panes, masking them all in a ghostly pale glow; broken only by the harsh glare of the odd generator powered spotlight. Connor tore his eyes from them, sensing a judging gaze aiming back at him, from where exactly he wasn’t sure, nor was he sure if it was real. All he wanted now, what he truly wanted, was for the world to swallow him whole; so that he could disappear and so the contradicting emptiness deep inside him would stop.

Any decisions he made now where his, and his alone. That thought terrified him above all.

That other android, he’d never learned her name, he’d only met her in passing; she barely held together, her eyes tainted black by who knew what. She'd barely said anything to him, but the words she had spoken were stuck in his head even now because she’d been right, she’d known before he even knew. He was lost and looking for something… himself. The thought had crossed his mind, that perhaps taking this little step into deviancy would shed some light on this, it hadn’t. He had more questions than answers now, and despite being surrounded, he had no one to turn to for answers.

Risking another looking up by chance he laid his eyes on a scene that would fundamentally change him in ways he wouldn’t comprehend for a long, long time.

Markus, leader of the Deviants, the machine (now as much a man as any), whom without none of this would be possible. The driving force behind this revolution, a symbol of freedom; some even said he was the rumoured rA9, the first android to awaken. It wasn’t likely but not entirely improbable either. Things were beginning to look less and less improbable, in the span of a few days Markus had led masses of androids in peaceful revolt, he’d united Deviants from all over Detroit in a single goal of true freedom.

Markus was, is, everything he could only aspire to be right now. A brave, seemingly fearless leader, who knew what he wanted and how he would go about getting it. The moment Connor’s eyes landed on him; his gaze locked on he couldn’t look away. He was entranced.

The symbol of their resistance, the android who’d convinced him, who’d helped him wake, he wasn’t worrying about what to do next, he wasn’t questioning every decision he’d made, nor was he doubting the events that had led him here. He merely was in that moment everything and more but only to one other.

Markus sat with another android, North if he remembered right. She’d been there when they’d jumped from the sinking Jericho; had nearly died moments before then. Together they sat on a pew directly across from him; the invading moonlight making a spectacle of their otherwise private moment.

What he witnessed, at first, didn’t make sense to him. They were close, their faces inches from each other, displaying everything his databanks labelled as all the signs humans associate with intimacy, affection… love. It was when they leaned even closer, their hands tangled in each other’s, their foreheads pressed together. Something in Connor’s chest swelled, a numbing and tightening feeling he’d never felt before. He couldn’t make sense of it. It wasn’t logical, seeing such a human interaction amidst such despair. Nothing about this was logical anymore.

Time was ticking down until there would be none of them left, if the humans were successful in their mission, if they found them again, if the ‘decommissioning’ was seen through to the end. But here they were, finding a few precious seconds amid the chaos to share with one another; all that aside but not forgotten.

Connor searched his memory, recalled the last few things he’d heard her say before his own awaking.

_I love… I don’t want to lose you…_

He understood the meaning of it. The basic syntax and definitions of each word in its most basic form. The deeper concept conveyed in the way it had been said, to whom it had been said, and by whom, the weight of the meanings they’d given to the words in that moment… _love…_ it was a concept beyond him.

He could perhaps convince himself that he understood this love, that he had been loved as the tool he was and was capable of loving too. Perhaps. But he felt that if he were to convince himself it would be another lie, it would be nothing like the love the two before him were sharing. He pondered briefly if it mattered, if there was any real difference between the types of love he’d witnessed. Connor cast the thought from his mind, there were more important things to focus on now, more pressing things weighing on him; he needed to show his worth, and make up for all his past errors, how was yet another fact eluding his grasp.

Taking a sharp inhale, he folded his arms across his chest, his own feigned breath fogging the air in front of him as he exhaled, the stolen jacket loose around his limbs. He closed his eyes, a chilling darkness settling on him, his connection to Cyberlife seemingly severed, the usual image of the Zen Garden nowhere to be found this time. He sighed, feeling a slight alleviation of the weight in his chest.

His mind raced, simulations of future possibilities running tenfold through his head. The united thrum of thirium pumps and the generators becoming like static in the background. Then movement. The shuffle and scuff of shoes in the thick dust clad on the floor, echoed like a gunshot in his head. His eyes snapped open and he looked to the point of origin.

It was foolish, to think such a small sound could have been a threat to him, but Connor had no reason to think they’d let him live, no reason to think he deserved to be allowed to either. The sound echoed over and rhythmically, getting louder, _trod, trod, scuffle, trod,_ as Markus approached him with purpose behind each stride taken. 

Connor couldn’t breath (not that it was necessary), his chest grew tighter the closer Markus got. His mind, the pinnacle of android processing power, tripped and stumbled trying to find a rational reason behind this. He couldn’t, and any further chance for thinking abruptly stopped when Markus stopped, only a few feet from him; a burning fire of fresh resolve and determination behind his piercing heterochromatic eyes.

Connor hadn’t realised it before, but now, in the new silence, it had become clear. This tightness, the thrumming he could hear, it wasn’t the generators, it wasn’t a malfunction of hardware or software, it was the thumping of his own anxiety driven heart in his chest reminding him that he was very much alive and therefore very much capable of making some difference.

He stood straighter, turned to face Markus, tried to bury the uncertainty he felt was showing in his own eyes. An idea suddenly emerged from the fresh sea of doubts in his mind and for the first time in his short life Connor felt hope. Hope, that this path would help him come to understand what he currently could not. Hope that there would be a tomorrow for the androids here with him, hope that he could make a difference.

**_~ Nearly 1 Year Later - Post Peaceful Android Revolution~_ **

**_October, 11th, 2039, 07:30am_ **

Connor entered through the front doors of the DPD Central station, a datapad in hand, scrolling rapidly through the list of volunteers and new recruits hired to help out with the sudden spike in crime due to the nearing of the Android Anniversary; the Androidversary is what people were calling it on the web. His mind raced over their profiles, background checks and qualifications and random tidbits of otherwise useless information; the kind only added onto a CV for show.

He sighed, walking through the security checkpoint, nimbly scanning the pointless ID card hanging from his neck on the contact point. It beeped cheerily in recognition allowing him through. He quickened his pace, not waiting for a response as he bid polite salutations to the receptionist as he went. 

Hank wasn’t there. He never was at this early hour, but Connor hoped one day, just once, he would come into work and see him already sitting there behind his desk, grumbling about whatever the neighbours kids had gotten up to the night before, slurping away at a fresh coffee from his favourite mug. The mug in question was sitting there, coffee long forgotten from the day before, room temperature and way past its optimal drinking age. 

Connor smirked, taking a seat at his own desk, the documents on his tablet immediately popping up on the monitor in front of him when he signed on. He scrolled some more, forcing himself to go slower than normal, it was something Hank had suggested to him. _Try taking things slowly, you’ll still get the same results you know!_ While he was right, Connor couldn’t see how he was doing anything other than wasting time.

He stopped scrolling as an email alert pinged at the bottom right corner of the screen. Without lifting a finger, he prompted it open and frowned reading the clickbait subject heading. 

ANROIDVERSARY; AMLOST 1 YEAR ON; SEE THE HOTTEST TRENDS ANDROIDS ARE USING TO…

He guessed what the next line would be, trends androids are using to stay updated without cyberlife, to celebrate 1 year of freedom. The list wasn’t endless, but they’d always be something along those lines. He’d first seen an email targeted like this barely a month after the liberation. His _bin_ was full of them. Without a second thought he clicked delete and watched as the unread email vanished from existence. He took an even deeper breath still and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes; a darkness he’d come to find comfort in greeting him.

“What’s eating you this fine morning?” a voice grumbled.

Connor shot upright, kicking the desk, letting out an unnecessary cry of discomfort and stood to greet Hank who had essentially, since he’d not made any sound, appeared out of thin air.

“Relax, Connor!” Hank said, slouching down into his own chair, groaning in relief. “You were so out of it, and your thing was flashing red again. Red means bad right?”

Connor consciously raised his hand to his temple, his fingertips hovering over where his L.E.D still remained. He couldn't bring himself to remove it, not out of fear or the need to let every person he passed on the street know he was an android, but because he still felt like he was just that. An android.

It might have been nearly one year since it all went down, since he broke his own programming, broke into Cyberlife tower, aided the Revolution, proved himself capable in their eyes; but beyond that, nothing felt different. He might be Deviant but he was still the same old Connor. Little had changed for him; he still had his job as an android Detective (Hank had vouched for him time and time again before he was greenlit for active duty again). Sure he had his own place now, a small apartment just around the corner from Central, not that he required such a space but Hank had insisted he truly experience what being human was all about and apparetnly that meant living alone.

Nearly twelve months, and the only thing that had really changed were the day-to-day cases he worked, less Deviant hunting and more general detective work. He’d set out back then wanting and seeking understanding, but he was only feeling more and more confused with every passing day. Only when he felt ready, like he really was _living_ , would he remove the L.E.D; until then it remained (and acted as Hank’s own mood monitor for him, it was helpful, not having to explain when he was in a mood all the time, the little flashing ring giving it all away for him; sometimes before he even knew).

“Yeah, red means bad… Why are you here?” Connor finally answered after a silence that had been drawn out too long.

“Good morning to you too! I happen to work here, remember?! And, you, yeah you! You’re my partner!” Hank looks at him with disbelieving eyes, a gaze that Connor was all too familiar with; this was his sarcasm face.

Connor lowered his arm and slowly sat down again. “Yes, I do remember, my databanks… I mean, my memory is working just fine. I meant, what are _you_ doing _here_ so early in the morning? It’s not even 8am! You rarely even awake at this point in the day!”

Hank smirked, “Oh you know my routine so well, it’s almost embarrassing.” He was quiet as he clicked on his own monitor in front of him, typed out a few letters on the keyboard and slammed a final click on the mouse. Connor’s screen lit up with a new email notification. “Take a look at that, whiz kid!”

“I’m not a whiz kid…” Connor mumbled, opening the email, and rapidly reading through it. A second later he turned to Hank, “Where did this come from?”

It was a long list of everyone suspected in the production and distribution of Red Ice, the illicit compound that was still ravaging the streets of Detroit despite everything else going on. A few months back they thought they’d made a breakthrough, locking down on one of their primary productions sites, arresting and confiscating everything at the scene; their channels weren’t even dented, supply and demand was as high as ever, they’d even broached the Android market with a digital version; a non-threatening virus that simulated the natural high. This list, it had names, it had locations, it had times and dates and countless more useful data they could use to take down the drug ring for good; that was assuming any of it was true.

“Anonymous tip. Came in last night, straight to my inbox would you believe. I had IT Forensics give it a check through. To see how authentic it is, no dodgy virus’ and stuff like that, I’m not entirely sure of the lingo the girl used, but I’m sure you know what I mean.” 

Connor nodded, silence falling between them. The office slowly became more lively as the morning shift crawled in. He could feel Hank’s eyes linger on him and he read through the information again.

“And?”

“They found nothing. Not even a signle tangible trail to say where it came from. It’s like it just appeared in my inbox, out the proverbial digital underworld.”

“You could just say the darkweb.” Connor suggest scrolling through again, Hank shook his head grimacing and mumbling unintelligibly under his breath.

Connor scrolled for the umteenth time through the data; it wasn’t necessary, he’d copied and memorized it all in the first few seconds of seeing it, he was just making sure it was still there, that it wasn’t some illusion or a glitch in his software (he hadn’t done a manual update in a while to anything was possible). 

Hank stood, suddenly and walked to his side. “Come on we’re gonna do a recky. See there," he pointed to an address on the list, "it’s an old housing development, they stopped building when your buddies became mainstream after the news broadcast last year. They recently got permission to repurpose the site, just building better houses basically. If we want proof that this could be real, I think going there would be a safe bet.”

Connor nodded, listening to his every word. An empty housing development, no warrant needed, and if work was to start up in the near future, the Druglord's would have moved out or be in the process of it. Either way they’d have a change to get evidence and hopefully the reassurance that this data drop was the real deal. 

“Wait. Right now?!” Connor asked, as Hank continued towards the main entranceway. He stumbled to his feet giving chase, nearly knocking the chair over, drawing concerned gazes from across the room, as always he ignored them. “I thought we were taking things slowly?”

“Ha, Connor, I only told you to do things slower because despite the obvious rise in crime, there still isn’t enough work to keep your head occupied. But this, this is something that needs stopped sooner rather than later, and you know why.”

Connor’s gaze drops as Hank’s eyes become somber, almost vacant in their remembrance. He does know, it was his understanding of this that had saved him taking a bullet in the depths of Cyberlife; the knowledge that because of this drug, his son had ended up dead, his life a downward spiral into alcoholism and stagnation. Everything had stopped for Hank then, it had only recently begun to flow again; of course he wasn’t going to go slow for this. 

He flipped a metaphorical swith in his head and chippered up, reengineering the dour mood into a more enthusiastic one. He rests a reassuring hand on Hank's shoulder. The older man stares at him with an intensifying concerd, this kind of contact doesn't happen often after all.

“Right. Then what are we waiting for? I’m driving right?” Connor flips the car keys, he’d just nabbed from Hank’s coat pocket in the air, sauntering backwards and giving him a playful wink before spinning on his heels and heading back through the security point with a spring in his step; the sound of Hank angrily cursing, and warning him to stay away from the car, chasing him as he went. 

He put on a brave smile when Hank caught up, snatching the keys and taking the lead. His chest was already filled with that familiar hopeful dread; the hope that maybe, just like before, he’d be useful, that this would go well and lead to the breakthrough Hank was searching. That he could once again make a difference. 


	2. The Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Rookie joins the team. Hank gives Connor a mission. Reed makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that two week update window totally didn't become a month! I've written a bit ahead so i don't plan on letting that happen again without warning.
> 
> Disclaimer; i know next to nothing about the processes in real world policing so if things don't make sense or aren't legally possible, lets just assume things are a lot different in 2039.

**_October 11 th, 2039, 9.35am_ **

Casey drummed her finger across the table in front of her, growing impatient, eager to start work; staying still for long periods of time had never been her strong suit. She glanced around the round at the tired faces staring towards the front, where some Officer (she’d already forgotten his name) spoke to them in a tone as drab watching paint dry.

She had ascertained after a few minutes of being in the room that among the volunteers and temporary transfers, there were few if any other than her that seemed thrilled to be there. The room felt more dead than any first day induction presentation she’d have the pleasure of attending.

The others all sat, in their pristine uniforms, faces bored, plain; a hollow blankness behind their tired eyes. Extra hands to help in the upcoming month before the anniversary of the Android Revolution; the crime rate had been slowly creeping back up and the recent spike in activity in Detroit had pushed the DPD to call in assistance. Some would be sent on patrols others to help with writing reports or archiving. It was the least they could do to try and tame the savage media who were still debating, even now, how ready an Android state could manage being independent.

Casey could hardly blame them for their lack of enthusiasm, an 8am start followed by nearly 2 hours of introductory presentations weren’t the most pleasant way to start a Monday; but still the basic health and safety rules, as well other important protocols and regulations they’d had drilled into them during their training could always be hammered in that little bit more.

The presenting officer finished up, wrapping his pages togethers before stepping down. The sound of rustling and shifting rushed through the room as the Captain, Jeffery Fowler, took the podium; the audience suddenly more attentive and under the impressive the boring stuff was coming to an end, only she wondered if what was to come next would be equally as boring. The Captain thanked the previous speaker and then set about his own introductory and welcoming speech. Casey quickly lost focus, drumming her fingers harder, much to the annoying of the person sitting beside her. She ignored their annoyed huff and promptly got lost in thought.

Casey had never been the best at paying attention or listening to long and very specific instructions. She hadn’t had much trouble adapting to life in the 3 months of basic training however, it was easier, the split-second decision making suited her, especially since there wasn’t enough time for anything else to distract her. Policing had never been on her to-do list in life, even with her father being a former member of the force; he’d been quite famous in his heyday, but his promising career had been cut short. Her own choice to join wasn’t so planned as it was last minute; like everything she came to do in life.

She’d dropped out of school at 16, worked in and around the country for four years before, she attempted to break into the journalism scene. That career had been short-lived, less than a year to be exact due to various complications, not limited to but definitely including her recklessness. It had been for the best, she surmised; gathering more worldly experience and coming to the otherwise buried path of following in her late fathers’ footsteps. She liked to think he’d be proud that, even though she’d taken the long way around, she’d ended up here.

When she surfaced from her reverie a little more relaxed and her patience restored, Captain Fowler was still droning on, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and did her best to make it appear like she was giving her full attention, but that was in vain. Her curious gaze wandered across the room, once again taking in the faces of the other hopeful recruits and volunteers, there weren’t as many as she imagine there’d be, and many more older than she’d expected too.

The only reason she could think for this was that Detroit, despite the progression and development over the last 11 months, was now largely an Android state. Tensions were still raw in relation to the situation. She pondered how many of them were possibly androids themselves; they had asked for civilian volunteers too, it wasn’t unlikely that at least one of them was. Not that it mattered to her. What they were beneath the surface hardly mattered so much as who they were or what they did. If they were capable and decent enough that was good enough for her. However not everyone was so accepting, the lack in numbers more than likely due to this fact.

It had been 11 months since the chaotic events of November 11th, 2038. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine the anarchy; she’d been stuck in Detroit herself as it all happened. While she at first consoled herself and resolved to stay holed up in her tiny two room flat and wait out the night, she had taken to the streets like so many others, but while thousands sought escape she had only longed to sate her curiosity; to see the events unfurling before her own eyes. She hadn’t been so successful but had been lucky enough to witness the thousands of fresh Cyberlife androids marching down the streets as the armed forces were ordered to withdraw and all non-android persons encouraged to evacuate.

The memory gave her chills; seeing so many of them, all awake, all _free._ It had certainly been a sight to behold, like a tsunami of new life flooding the streets, an image she’d never forget. With effort she unfurled the white-knuckled fist her hand had curled into, letting out a quiet sigh, her heart racing as the images rushed by her mind’s eyes.

Shortly following those events, Detroit had been entirely evacuated of humans, and in the weeks that followed only a select few were permitted to return. The DPD had been the priority in the beginning, establishing security and ensuring public safety most important, before the systematic influx of civilians not bothered by androids, and those who aided and abetted their freedom and escape, who’d sought to help them as they would a fellow human.

Markus, their leader, had seen through his peaceful motivation completely as he’d vowed, and was still working beyond that; acting as a representative of Androids even today. It was all the papers and news sites ever talked about for the first few months. How he sought equality for all, and the best way to get it was by being diplomatic and patient, rushing into it wouldn’t help anyone. His conquest for a lasting peace it what made the upcoming weeks more important than ever. Detroit may have become a true melting pot of culture through the mixing of human and android; but there were still those that opposed androids. They had won their rights and now were beginning to settle in life, with regular jobs and even families of their own. Their battles were far from over, freedom hard won was rarely so easily kept.

Fowler wrapped up his speech with a grumbling of good luck tidings and a warning that if they couldn’t cut it they’d be promptly cut from the teams. His change in tone had caught her attention, that and that there had to be at least half a dozen better ways to phrase that; but then it occurred to her, Fowler would have been a products of the early 2000’s and they had been a weird stretch even compared to now. He left seemingly in a rush to be elsewhere and another officer quickly took his spot behind the podium. He began thanking them all for their future hard work and began calling out names followed by the tasks they been assigned and to which senior officers they’d report to.

This first week would be time for them to become acquainted with the building, the people, the job; they could only hope that more than half would still be present by then.

The room’s occupants dwindled until it was just her and two others, ‘ _a team of three… that’s rare.’_ The Officer called their names, “Harry Thompson and John Gregory”. The pair seemed familiar with each other and all too happy and out of place for the setting. Casey stood and made her way to the front as they left, removing the need for him to call her; he seemed to appreciate this, steeping down from the podium. He approached her, a small smile on his face and with a small digital tablet in hand.

“You must be Temple, Cassandra. Top of the class, no wonder you’re going to Hank… I’m Chris by the way, Chris Miller.” He offered his hand by way of introduction, she took it firmly, making sure to assert her own dominance as existent.

“That’s me, but Casey is just fine.” She answered calmly, not having a clue who this Hank was, and instantly curious to find out. “I’m assigned to who exactly? Also, I thought we were getting paired up?”

Officer Miller had already begun towards the door as she’d asked; instinctively Casey followed. He held the door for her; she nodded in thanks and smiled still waiting for an answer. He urged her to follow him still. Outside the meeting room, as you would expect, hadn’t changed from the way it was that morning, only more active with a steady buzz of people at work; the clicking of pens and mumbling of serious discussion. The room is massive, she’d thought it only a ploy of her still fatigued mind but getting a more focused look now that she was fully awake she saw it wasn’t so a much ruse but a deception by the design itself. It was filled end to end with desks, more than half occupied, some by a few faces of those that had just left the induction; the high ceiling adding to the grandiose presentation making the place seem more vast than it was.

Casey walked in pace with Miller, as he led the way and finally answered. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson will be your CO, and yeah, the intention was to have two per lieutenant, but Hank already has his hands full with… uh, well you meet him soon enough. I’m sure Hank won’t hesitate to fill you in.”

 _‘Lieutenant Hank Anderson’_ , she thought to herself, the name was more than familiar. Her father had been fond of talking about him, as had the media. Anderson was better known by her (and likely most of the Detroit Legal system) as one of the most prolific, officers of his time; rising to the rank of Lieutenant in record time, with a close to obscene success rate to go with it. He’d dropped of the public interest radar some years ago, even her own father had stopped mentioning him. It had been a strange and sudden change.

What she knew of him now came mostly from news articles and outdated gossip; Casey had to pinch herself at hearing how she’d be reporting to the man himself, helping him with whatever case he was currently working; but more than likely just getting him coffee when he needed it. She couldn’t help but wonder what meeting the man himself would be like and being mentored by him. Stopping herself before he got lost in thought she reminded herself she’d find out sooner than later.

Miller stopped by a pair of desks; their owners absent. He looked about, towards the breakroom and then glanced at his watch before frowning. He looked like he’d been expecting this no-show. He put on a brave smile and turned back to her.

“Sorry about this, he isn’t uh, actually he’s never been the most punctual guy…” he trailed off, spying a manned desk across the room, and starting for it to avoid shouting. “Give me a minute.”

As he left, Casey checked her own watch; it was getting close to 11am, isn’t the most punctual was an understatement, then again who was to say he’d not already been and left; he was no doubt busy. She sighed and resigned to stand by the desks her eyes wandering about the room before, naturally, settling on them.

Curious about the natures of her soon to be colleagues she examined their contents. The one labelled with a nameplate denoting “ **Lt. H. Anderson** ” in strong metallic text. At first glance it was more lived-in than the other and yet not a messy as one would anticipate. Only a semi-neat pile of open case files, a recently watered Niwaki tree and an old mug, half full of coffee not doubt long forgotten in a rush to go home or chase down a fresh lead. Glancing up to the notice panel, she saw some of his best achievements framed and displayed, old newspaper clippings immortalised in acetate stuck in no semblance of order, along with photos, reminders and other note of varying importance. She laughed silently, noticing the crude doodles over the heads of some (she guessed) less than savoury characters in a group photo.

Having had her fill of the unruly personality portrayed among the belongings she turned to the other desk adjacent.

Unlike the Lieutenant’s, this one bore no name plate, but still looked inhabited and definitely in use. It was nowhere near as disorganised as the Lieutenant’s. The files there were neatly stacked, by date order. The remaining space on the desk was largely unoccupied, no array of personal affects, no half-full coffee mug. Only the monitor and an old, battered Walkman attached to a set of bass-enhancing earphones religiously wrapped around it so that the wire lay flat against the aged device. She’d never seen one of these old models before, expect for photos, she surmised this person liked things old and classic. A lover of all things vintage and retro.

Casey pulled her attention from the desk to check on Miller, who was still engaged in a deep conversation at the desk across the room; the officer he spoke to looked annoyed and his ‘devil-may-care’ expression made her think they didn’t want to talk about the subject of conversation.

Turning back to the desk, quickly dismissing the thoughts, she noticed the neat row of bright pink sticky notes along the bottom of the notice panel there. Slightly amused, she ponder at this mystery individual and was suddenly excited to meet them. She leaned forward trying to the decipher the tidy, neat and oh so small writing, just as Chris returned. Hearing his steps, she straightened and tried to forget her interest.

“So, sorry about this, but he’s, once again, MIA, he does this often. He’ll turn up eventually. He was in earlier apparently, who knows where he is now. Why don’t you get yourself a coffee? I’ll be back in five-ten minutes and I’ll give you a quick tour yeah?”

Casey nodded excitedly, and with that he left her alone in the room she’d labelled as so massive; she suddenly felt very small and insignificant and aware of everything around her and had a sudden feeling that she was being watched. She casually brushed it off, shaking her head like it was an etch-a-sketch and chose to heed Miller’s advice heading directly to the break room.

[*]

**_Downtown Detroit, about 1hr from Central Station, 10.45am_ **

Hank huffed while tapping the well-polished wheel of his ’95 Lincoln, stuck behind a long row and slow-moving traffic which was odd for this time on a Monday morning. Connor was sitting in the passenger seat beside him staring out the window seemed oblivious to the growing annoyance he felt the need to exhibit in regularly timed grunts and agitated coughs. The android remained complacent and focused only on the passers-by strolling down the sidewalk.

Hank sighed as they came to a stop at yet another red light; he’d kill for some conversation, but he knew he’d get nothing out his partner except for speculation regarding the current case. Connor had never been the most expressive individual, even after the events of November 11th. When he was he was usually straight and to the point, never saying more than was necessary. Hank had assumed Connor accepting his deviancy, accepting that he was definitely more than just a machine, as he’d come to see through working with him, would lead him into a more natural way of living. It shocked him to see him become neither more expressive nor less so; he had appeared to just stop. Of course, he tried, that was the least he could ask of him, but that didn’t little to lower his concern. For lack of any better terminology at his disposal, Hank could only say that the Android – that Connor – was still coming to terms with his new reality, still struggling to integrate into the new world.

Hank only hoped that this new lead, in their never-ending mission to bring an end to Red-Ice circulation, would give them the direction they needed; and maybe get Connor to think of something else other than his job once it was over. Just as he was about to steal Connor’s attention, the man in question perked up and sat facing forward.

“Connor?” Hank asked, concerned skyrocketing as he sat there in silence staring out the windshield. “Connor?”

“Hank…” Connor started, the characteristic shyness he’d developed since that night, more noticeable.

“Connor?” he asked again by way of letting him know he had his full attention. He ignored the angered blaring of car horns from behind as the light turned green. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to just demand he blurt it out.

“Do you remember when Fowler mentioned the new recruits a few weeks ago?” Connor started.

“Yes. He mentioned that they were starting soon. What about it?”

Connor took an unnecessary breath and turn to look at him, his face blank and his emotion projected entirely in the crease of his eyes. “They start today.” He said bluntly, his eyes convey an air of worry.

Hank allowed himself to relax. “That it? Jeez, you sure know how to make me sweat! I’m sure we’ll be back in time to-“

“They’re already there. In fact, your assignee is currently waiting. Miller just messaged me, he says he’ll take care of them until we get there.”

Hank narrowed his eyes at him, “Did you forget?”

Connor turns his attention back to the window on the passengerside. “No so much forgot as overlooked…” he argued.

“Connor, since when do you forget things?! If somethings wrong you know you have tell me, right? Connor are you listening?”

“The light is green, Hank.” Connor said, not turning to look.

Hank decided to resign from the conversation, shifting into gear, indicating left and turning down the road making his way back to the DPD. “We’re talking about this later, alright? Don’t think I’m letting it go, you’ve been acting weird… weirder, for a while now. You hearing me Connor?!”

He waited for a reply, and hearing Connor sigh in resignation he knew he’d accepted the deal and was likely already simulating how it would unfurl. Hank only pondered the road ahead, and the possible deeper reasoning for why Connor could be so distracted.

‘ _Connor never forgets anything… did he miss an update or something?’_ In that Hank could only hope.

[*]

**DPD Central Station, 10.55am**

With little haste, Casey had made her way to the break room; it had been easy enough to find being so clearly marked with a large sign and bold letters spelling out ‘BREAK ROOM’. It was more of an alcove, than a room, an open area adjoined to the meeting room, opposite the offices. Despite this connectedness there was an entirely different atmosphere here, more relaxed and the air less heavy.

She glanced at the coffee machine, hopeful for a tea option, since coffee was too bitter for her sweet tastes even with the addition of sugar and dilution with milk. Finding that option out of order, Casey instead pulled a bottle of water from the fridge next to it and cradled it between her hands. She turned only to come face to face with a man, a fair bit taller and standing directly in her path; too close for comfort.

“Excuse me.” She said simply, taking a step to get around him; he matched her step for step, blocking her.

Conjuring the courage, she shot her gaze to his; locking eyes and feigning a sharp aggression that she didn’t really have the bravery to follow through with if he persisted. He did take a small step back taken by surprise at her sudden fierceness. His retreat was short-lived, as he smirked, almost maliciously and stepped closer, looking down on her.

“You must be one of the newbies, huh? And your name would be?” his voice was low, like a whisper, intended just for her. It was the most threatening murmur she’d heard in a long while; she almost felt compelled to answer him but resisted. There was something annoying about the overconfident tone in his voice, like he was used to getting his own way; combined with his relaxed and dominant composure her instinct told her he was bad news.

Gritting her teeth, and burying her fear, she stood her ground trying to mirror his aura back at him.

“How about you tell me first? Officer?” she asked, taking another brave step forward, standing taller too. Again, he was taken aback, retreating a step.

Casey surmised she’d been successful in reflecting his dominance, having had the same compelling influence over him, if not better, as he answered. “Reed, and that’s _Detective_ Reed to you kid.”

She’d pushed a few buttons that was obvious, his demeanour becoming tense and a shallow scowl settling into his brow. That slightly cocky smile he’d wore remained firm, the mask he wore to assert his dominance.

“Nice to meet you detective.” She said plainly, and with no intention of answering him in kind, she walked past him to the high tables across the room, taking position behind one and glancing at her watch again.

In silence she unscrewed the bottle and took a small mouthful, praying for Miller to return faster. The silence broke only at the sound of a footsteps that ceased by her side. Reed put himself next to to her, leaning low against the table, and stared. She ignored him as best she could, pretending to be intrigued by the bounty of motivational posters on the wall. For what felt like an eternity he simply stared until finally breaking the silence with yet another question.

“Are you an Android?” his voice was laced with an undeniable venom.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, still with no intention of granting this man a straight answer.

“You won’t tell me your name. You’re giving me emotionless responses. No respect for your superior officer. You’ve got to be, I know you’ve got ways of altering your appearance. You want to know something else?”

Casey failed to see how his thinking could lead to the conclusion that she had to be an Android; she’d thought her responses were somewhat lively, or perhaps that had been wishful thinking. Anyone that knew her, and they were few, knew that getting any response from her was a miracle; she’d never been one for socialising and small talk bored her. Small talk like he was attempting.

“I don’t like Androids.” He finally finished, when she’d made no effort to respond or acknowledge him. “So, if you are, I’ll find out. Trust me when I say I won’t go on easy on you if you are. You can bet I’ll be watching.”

With that final remark, he left her alone; the smirk on his face indicating he thought he’d succeeded in intimidating her. He hadn’t, not entirely. If anything, she was more intrigued by how his mind worked, and why someone like him (an asshole), who hated androids was in a city that had become mostly Android inhabited. If he really was going to be watching her, she’d have plenty of time to find out why; not to mention ample opportunity to mess with him too.

In her deep reverie Casey hadn’t noticed Chris walk in and had a small heart attack when he said her name.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Come on, I’ll show you around, introduce you to a few people.”

She nodded, and smiled, happily joining him.

[*]

It was just after 12pm when Casey, introduced as Officer Temple, finished her short tour with Miller. Having met half the precinct, and been shown where all the important rooms where, she took the time in her short walk back to Anderson’s desk to draw up a mental map, highlighting key locations using small and unique details to give them relatable significance. It was something she’d always done subconsciously, a way to making the future a little easier.

Miller left her, walking ahead of her to Anderson’s still empty desk, while she lingered staring out at room, now more empty than it had been earlier; it was nearing lunch time after all. Casey watched as Miller walked past the vacant desk and continued towards the reception at the far end of the room, through the security point and out of sight. Some small part of her hoped that the Lieutenant had arrived, another part was dreading it. It was all the stress that came with a first meeting, the twisting knots and somersaults her stomach was doing that left her uneasy.

She couldn’t help it, as she slowly listed in the direction of the break room again she began planning rough answers to typical questions, rehearsing them over and over until she knew exactly how she would speak when the time came; if it came. It was a ritual she’d always done, even for the most benign of things. But this, it mattered, this first impression mattered. She didn’t want to seem like a complete idiot in front of her Commanding Officer, nor would she allow herself to take the same approach as she had with Reed.

Heading past the Break room, she saw Detective Reed there once again. _Didn’t he have work to do? Anything that didn’t involve the Break room?_ Her concern for his work ethics was quickly doused by the scene she saw unfurling before her. Reed had cornered another man, a fellow Detective by the casual uniform he wore. If she hadn’t met him earlier to know he was an asshole, Casey would have assumed they were just close friends, but she did know better and just listening was enough to tell anyone it was otherwise.

“You tin cans really are annoying. They can say and give you all the rights you want, you’re still just a machine!”

When Reed pushed him, and the man presumably an Android, did nothing but seem exasperated by the act, almost as if it was a regular occurrence he’d learned to endure. Something in her stirred, angry and seeking justice. Seamlessly she changed her course, and interposed herself between them, planting herself in the way of Reed; facing him with a burning scowl. She glared and said nothing. Her rage emanating all the words he needed to understand.

He smirks, then quickly it broadens into an unmistakeable grin. “I knew it, you have to be one of them! Why else would you defend this prick?”

Casey took a moment to compose herself, thought about how to put it simply; so that even a moron like Reed could understand.

“What _we_ are doesn’t matter, Detective. He’s still people and you can’t treat people like this, especially in this line of work.”

Letting out a slow breath, Casey relaxed. She’d been lenient in the end, for all the rage she was feeling she didn’t feel like getting sacked on the first day of a new job. She’d kept to the truth, her own beliefs and left all the spiteful expletives for her own private reruns of how events could have gone; those she’d do later that night when she couldn’t sleep.

Reed seemed like he was about to say something when Chris and another, older man appeared behind him; and behind them she spied Captain Fowler watching them all through the crystalline glass panes of this own office. She was suddenly thankful she hadn’t lost it.

“That’s enough Reed. I’m sure the printer is missing your afternoon scolding, it’s waiting for you.”, interrupted the older of the two men. He was taller than average height, greying hair long but well maintained. He stared at Reed with an indifference most only reserved to award presentations and board meetings.

Reed visibly twitched at the insinuation laced in the phrase, slowly he turned and must have seen the Captain sending him silent warning signs since the tension in his shoulder’s suddenly left him. He shrugged and scoffed loudly, looking back at her, glancing to the android behind. He leaned in close to her, quieting his voice to the same whisper he’d used that morning.

“You got lucky today, Rookie. Remember, watch yourself.” He drew back, winking at her and then turned to leave, ignoring the eyes that followed him.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder she turned, spinning on the spot to face the android – no, man – that she’d aided. He looked grateful, soft brown eyes practically glowing with the thanks he exuded. He smiled and that was enough to get her smiling too.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing she asked, any semblance of the anger she’d felt gone with Reed.

“Yes. I’m fine thank you. This isn’t the first time he’s expressed his dislike of Androids in such a physical way; however, it is the first time he’s been caught.” His smile persisted.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.” She stated bluntly, not sure how else to respond. She truly believed it, but it was now clearer than ever that even now they still weren’t safe in society. ‘ _You shouldn’t let him get away with it’_ she wanted to add but avoiding premature familiarity she kept quiet.

The silence dragged on, a little too long, then was thankfully interrupted by the older Officer.

“Connor let’s go. We have a trainee to meet.” He started to leave but Miller was quick to stop him.

“Um, she is the trainee Hank.”

Another silence fell on them as Hank looked her up and down, as if to relay his confusion and also an air of being impressed if she was what he was getting.

“Alright then.” He said after a while clapping his hands together, nodding and moving to the android’s side. Casey felt her heart rate rise in triplicate as they both stood there staring at her. Hank with an authoritative air that screamed _‘finally someone to do my reports!’_ and the other exuding an almost disturbing air of curiosity as if she were the first human he’d come across in his lifetime. The latter was a more endearing look, it was as though he was trying desperately to understand why she’d done as she had, was on the verge of asking but was met with an insurmountable and invisible wall called uncertainty preventing him from speaking out.

She held her breath and willed her heart to relax, it could have been worse she thought, ‘ _I could have punched him_ ’. While that had crossed her mind as a possibility her better judgment had won over and she was glad for it. She didn’t want to even imagine dealing with the aftermath of that; this was bad enough. She opened her mouth to introduce herself when Hank – Lieutenant Anderson – jumped in ahead of her.

“Anyway, Chris has probably told you already, but I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson, and this here is Connor.” He gives the other, who is still staring intensely at her, a friendly pat on the back drawing his attention away from her. She was stunned for a moment and then got her bearings.

“I’m Casey Temple.” Offering her hand, she let it hang until withdrawing it after Hank simply nodded and walked past her again. “I look forward to working with you!” she shouted after him, Miller hot on his tail. She spun to see Connor, “and you too of course!”

She smiled awkwardly, that closed mouth, folded lip smile that everyone ended up giving someone who passed them in the corridor or in the street when they couldn’t avoid interaction. Connor smiled less awkwardly and almost rushed to join Hank. She stood there, alone, her brow furrowed and said nothing, making no attempt to join them just yet.

“You might want to go with them.” Miller urged her.

“Um, yeah sure.” She said, her voice shaking a little. Clearing her throat, she marched towards them invigorated by the opportunity to finally get to work.

[*]

Hank frowned seeing the half full coffee mug on his desk, remembering the comforting hot beverage he’d been enjoying before the prospect of new evidence lured him out the door, and now he had another extra to take care. He lifted the first case file off his desk and surmised it would do. He lifted the mug and turned; seeing Connor approach him he stopped.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a bit soon to be passing judgement, Hank. It is only our first time meeting her.”

Hank scoffs, “Reminds me of your first day, causing trouble and getting on Reed’s bad side. Kid better not me as much trouble as you were!”

Connor takes the file from his grasp and glances back to where she is in the break room. Officer Miller says something to her and soon she is heading in their direction.

“As I recall, you didn’t want me as your partner at all Hank. There’s already significantly less tension between you and Officer Temple.”

“Look at you, being all formal.” Hank snatches the file back and pushes past him. “You’re in charge of her by the way.”

Connor motioned to agree and then suddenly realised what that meant. “Wait, what? She’s been assigned to you, Hank. You-“

He stops as she comes into ear shot and turns away from her as she stops by them, silently awaiting instruction.

“Temple.” Hank starts, “Hit the locker room and get out of that uniform, it’ll be too conspicuous where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” she asked. He gave her a look expression the words ‘ _you’ll find out when we get there’_ before he quickly nodded and headed off.

Connor turned back to him once she was gone, “Hank I-“

Hank raised a hand, stopping him. “She was assigned to us. And I’m the Commanding Officer so I’m making you responsible for her. It’ll be an opportunity for you. Make a friend that isn’t just me, or another android. Play the field a little, get out of your corner. Yeah.”

Connor hesitated for a moment, until he’d processed the meaning of it all, “Uh, yeah…”

“Great. Now let’s get coffee and when she gets back, we’ll head back out there. You can wait for her here.”

Before Connor could argue, Hank sauntered back to the break room and got himself a coffee, before heading back towards reception. Connor waiting patiently, perusing the casefile; it just so happened to be the one related to their current lead. She was faster than he’d anticipated, appearing before him in her civilian clothes; dark denim jeans, heavy boots and an appropriate winter jacket. She was smiling, an innocent eagerness in her eyes, that was thoroughly infectious.

He tore his own gaze away from her and handed her the file, walking off before she could get a word in. “Follow me. Read this on the drive.”

Without looking back to see her bewildered expression Connor all but galloped after Hank, Officer Temple, hot on his heels; the beginning of plans that would hopefully lead him down a successful working relationship with her already forming in his head. He just needed to observe a little more before he could make any brash decisions.


	3. Investigating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team follow a lead. Connor experiences a new feeling. Hank needs a drink.

Connor could say he was surprised at the general eagerness of the newest member of their team, but that would be a lie, and he didn’t do lies… often. Officer Temple had followed him without question, and once they’d got into Hank’s car she slipped into the back seat like it was something she done every day for years. As he’d instructed she buried her head into the case file, pulling out the copious documents, and photos relating to the “Red Ice” drug ring. Connor couldn’t help but watch her in the rear-view mirror, taking note of her micro expressions for no apparent reason other than the fact that he could; the way her lips pressed together into a thin red line as she read, how her brows knitted together softly, nothing the quivering crease that appeared between them.

With apt speed, he snapped his eyes forward as her own -too curious and observant with a jade glow- snapped up; he was able to catch a lingering question. The silence that persisted betrayed her hesitation. He made another note; _not as confident as she lets on._

Hank was too focused on the drive to pay attention to the silent interactions going on around him; intent on actually getting to their destination this time with no distractions or backtracks. Connor glanced over at him and watched as his eyes too flicked up to the rear-view and quickly back to the road. The journey so far had been surprisingly quiet, only the growl of the engine, and the crinkling of paper, until finally that question he’d seen her holding back couldn’t wait any longer.

“This might seem a bit of a silly question but...”

Hank smirked, “No such thing, so ask away.”

Connor continued to watch her in the mirror, holding back his own smile as she seemed to quietly disagree. Temple cleared her throat before continuing.

“Okay then, why do you have these printed? Wouldn’t it easier just to have it all digital? Less of a security risk too? Not to mention environmentally friendly.”

An awkward silent fell on them, as they crawled to a stop at a red light, the breaks squeaking enough to send a chill through him. Hank tensed momentarily, the hunch settling into the shoulders, the one that Connor intuitively knew as one of exasperation. The Lieutenant took a deep breath, his body sagging as he did, the small ball of stress leaving him.

“You know what, you were right, that is a silly question. Anything else you want to ask? Make it relevant this time.” Hank grumbled, speeding along the road at the green light.

Connor turned to regard Hank with judging eyes, whose gaze was once again transfixed ahead of him. The way he saw it, her question, while not directly relevant to the case had not been entirely irrelevant. Temple, however, didn’t seem deterred by his rough tone; an expression of resolute determination set in the frame of her features. Her eyes trained on the back of Hank’s head for a beat too long to suggest she was even a little bit intimidated. She seemed to think better of continuing with that line of questioning.

She sighed loudly and turned to look out the window, sitting back, the hiss of the seatbelt too loud in the silence. “Where are we going? There’s nothing in the file that points to any specific locations. I’m guessing you got a tip, probably recent, this morning judging by the urgency.” Her voice was soft, but loud enough to be heard clearly even as she continued to stare listlessly. There was something laced in her tone, he wasn’t sure what, something accusatory while speculative, something with enough force behind it to quietly demand an answer and yet tender enough to let Connor know she wasn’t entirely sure of her own assumptions. 

He could see Hank suppressing a crooked grin, nodding in quiet affirmation at how right she was. He was impressed and he wasn’t going to let her know that.

“We _did_ get an anonymous tip. A list of various people and locations, all allegedly related to ‘Red Ice’. Some of them we had on the suspect list but didn’t have the proof to act. Right now, we’re heading to a building complex that was abandoned mid-construction about a year ago; supposed production centre. _Hopefully,_ we can find something, any kind of proof that that they were using the place.”

“That should give the rest of the data credibility.” Connor added in, feeling like he’d been silent for far too long. “Then we would have plenty of leads to work with.”

“Exactly. So, when we get there, you need to be on the lookout for anything, no matter how small. We’ll be able to shut down ‘Red Ice’ for good if the list turns out to be the real deal.” Hank finished, a serious note offsetting the optimistic tone of the sentence.

There was yet another silence, this time Connor turned around to look at her. Officer Temple was flicking through the file once more, that same serious line set between her brows again. She looked up at him, intense green meeting soft brown; daringly she held his gaze, before her stare move to Hank who was thankfully fixated on the road.

“Sounds like it means a lot to you… solving this case I mean.” She said, and with nowhere else to turn in the conversation with Hank not responding she closed the file and returned to staring out the window.

They carried on like this for a while, getting stuck in the afternoon traffic. Connor let his mind go blank as he pondered what they might find, if they did find something this would be the turning point in their investigation; if the information Hank had received was legitimate then maybe, just maybe, they really could finally bring an end to the Red Ice industry. Then again, it could all be a waste of time. This could just be a fake lead. Even if some of the names on that list where people they suspected, he wouldn’t get his hopes up. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d received tips leading them down dead-end rabbit holes to nothing.

It Hank’s sudden and apparently unprovoked scoffing that made his two partners stare at him and then to each other with a mildly growing concern.

“Is everything okay, Hank?” Connor asked.

“Just great Connor… I thought you’d be like your dad, but I guess the apple fell a little further from the tree.” He said, as they turned a corner. Connor was about to remark when he realised Hank wasn’t talking about him. He turned to see her staring in surprise. Hank continued when she didn’t answer. “You are Scott’s kid right? Scott Temple? Did I assume wrong?”

“Uh, no, I mean yes, he… was my dad. You worked with him before, or so he told me.” She stumbled over her words like she’d been caught off guard; which was likely, judging from her elevated heart rate. It had been a steady rhythm from the moment Detective Reed had stormed off, but now, it was as if it was racing towards some unseen finish line.

It was reflex for Connor; one he couldn’t easily suppress. Upon hearing the name he’d immediately accessed the DPD database, conducting a quick search for ‘ _Scott_ _Temple’_. He wasn’t the most decorated of Officer’s. He made it to Sergeant rank almost as quickly as Hank had but had proceeded no further thanks to the misfortune of dying in the line of duty 5 years ago. Connor suddenly felt like he shouldn’t had searched, shouldn’t have pried, that he should have tried a little harder to fight that _need_ to know. Knowing had ever stopped him before but now it felt different, like he was invading someone’s life, their history. He was _trying_ to be human, and this… this wasn’t how humans got to know each other. Just as quickly as he’d entered the file, he left. Fighting his own unquenchable curiosity was hard but he managed and was thankful for the sudden distraction Hank gave him.

The car screeched to a stop, as they pulled up in front of an unassuming building on an empty street. Hank killed the engine, unbuckled himself, and turned to face her.

“Your dad was very loud, couldn’t let anything go without getting a word in. You’re quiet, always thinking about what to say right? You’re more like you mother that way.”

Hank hopped out quickly slamming the door shut behind him, not catching her mumble and making so much noise Connor missed it too. They both exit the car walking around to join Hank.

“Okay, New Kid, do exactly as your told. No running off, and if you find something tell either me, or Connor, before you do anything else. Got it?”

Temple looked like she was back to her eager self, the heaviness from the small talk in the car already gone; her heard returning to more regular excited buzz. She nodded, hummed in affirmation, firm determination hardening in her eyes. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Great let’s go.”

[*]

The feeling of cold fresh air hitting her cheeks was more than welcomed; the atmosphere in the car had been growing increasingly suffocating; she wasn’t sure it that was just her own anxiety or the result of haughty nature of the old Lieutenant. The other, Connor, being so quiet didn’t sit well with her either. He’d said next to nothing the entire time, she wondered what he’d been doing; as an Android, he could’ve be doing any number of things all at once. As soon as she began speculating she quickly stopped, immediately deciding it didn’t matter. She was here to work, getting to know them was a part of the job that she assumed would occur naturally as they, well, worked.

Despite all the awkwardness, one thing they did seem was decent, and also a pair who got on extremely well together too. It fascinated her how the Lieutenant was able to read Connor with next to no input from him, how they seemed on the same wavelength constantly; able to finish each other’s trains of thought. She could only hope that someday she’d be able to work with them, heck anyone, that well.

Together they walked down a few short streets. Hank explained he’d parked there to avoid arousing any suspicion on the off chance there were any unsavoury characters still lingering about. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at what would have been the entrance to a modest estate of around 30 or so, 2 story buildings. Most while where complete, with front doors and glazed windows, they still had an unfinished look about them; a few weren’t even close, only the skeletons of what could have been a welcoming home for some deserving family if they’d only had the chance. The only other obvious clue that this development had been abandoned was the unfinished garden areas, where piles of weathered building materials lay indiscriminately abandoned. Bags of cement that had been soaked through and dried countless time in the changing weather of the past year, had melded into the dirt beneath them, tools and hardhats left in the filth to rust and wear away forgotten by the world, metal-wire fences barely still holding together a deformed barricade that had given up keeping people out. Had it been finished it would have been one of the first developments to be still within the city limits and look like something commonly found in the suburbs; a more affordable form of accommodation for those less fortunate.

All in all, it was as she’d expected to find an abandoned building site; a mess. She stepped forward until she was at Connor’s side.

“So, you think they’re still here?” she asked, peering out across the site. It was hard to tell if the tracks on the earth were from the workers, fossilised over time or if they were more recent; to her eye at least. Connor remained silent as he continued to survey the area.

Hank walked past them looking about him, frowning at the state of the place, grumbling under his breath. Ignoring her question, he turned to them. “The tip said building 28. So, let’s find building 28.”

He stalked off ahead of them, just as it started to rain. Nothing more than a light drizzle, but the looming grey in the sky above made it look like worse was on the way. Casey opened her palm to the sky, catching a few droplets in her palm. She loved the rain but given their circumstances, and the destructive nature of a heavier deluge, it wouldn’t be good for their investigation. She stood a moment longer, assessing, summarising her own method to quickly find the right building. She ignored Connor as he crouched down staring at the ground as it became saturated with rain.

‘ _This is an isolated estate, typical numbering of odds on one side and evens on the other wouldn’t normally apply. They’d be numbered in ascending order, assuming one, starts here on the left then 28 should be…’_

She hadn’t noticed Connor rise to standing again. He was staring right at her again, as he seemed to love doing; that same quizzical look on his face, a questioning tilt to his head. Ignoring this, she moved to his side and pointed past, “It’s that one there.” She told him. Then after a beat she added, “Probably.”

He followed her direction, taking less than a second before respond, “I agree.” He started towards it. As if by silent acknowledgement, or as she suspected, using their apparent telepathy, Hank spotted him and, unquestioning, headed in the same direction.

Casey power walked after the android, stumbling over her own feet; all she could do to avoid literally chasing him. “Are you sure, or just saying that?”

He turned his head towards her, not slowing his stride or changing course. “You based your conclusion of typical house numbering systems yes?” she stared at him, intermittently looking down to avoid colliding with debris, and slowly nodded. “And you also considered the fact that this is a secluded estate, so it would only make sense that they ascend sequentially. Correct.”

She perked an eyebrow, “Yeah, that was exactly my thinking. That was-“

“Sorry.” He interrupted.

“Huh? What for?”

She tripped forward, recovering quickly but not quick enough to avoid stumbling into him. He’d stopped in his tracks. Moving back a step she regarded him, his LED was flashing like crazy, a strong amber colour too. Then it stopped. Blinking a bright blue before returning to a steady ring.

“Most people don’t like when I do that.” He said plainly, looking away. It was as if he was expecting her to not appreciate him thinking on the same wavelength as her. Casey couldn’t help but tilt her head in confusion.

“I was going to say that was pretty cool actually. It’s not often that people think along the same lines as me, it was… nice.” She gave him her biggest smile. The grin reached her eyes as he smiled back. His was nothing extreme, small and private, a reflection of how happy he was with such a small compliment.

There ‘moment’ was interrupted when Hank finally joined them and together they crossed the work yard and ascended the threes small steps to the porch of 28. In silence they stared at the front door, and as if it was living, she could feel it stare back judging them for even daring to approach. She swallowed and inhaled sharply.

“Anything goes wrong,” Hank started, placing a hand on her shoulder, “you head back to the car and call for backup.”

“I did get the same training as every other Officer, you know. I _can_ handle myself.” Casey reminded him; a strong sprinkling of annoyance added in for good measure.

“What happened to doing what I say?” he snapped back, a brow raised, an incredulous look in his eyes.

She couldn’t help but take a timid step back, afraid she’d overstepped. “I was, just making sure you were aware of it. That’s all.” She turned her head when she knew he couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, silently berating herself. Crossing her arms, she faced him again, the look of guilt so plain to see and impossible to hide that she hated it.

“Huh, you’re more like your dad than I thought it seems. Fine. You still have to follow our instructions.”

“Of course.” She allowed herself to visibly relax, her arms released and hanging by her side again. She couldn’t help but cheer up at the small bundle of trust he put in her rookie hands; a small smile to rival Connor’s creeping onto her lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress it.

She looked towards Connor, her direct report after Hank, his LED was flashing amber again. It was odd, she thought, how he still had his. Many androids had removed them as their first act of autonomy, ridding themselves of the small shackle, the one thing that would make it clear they weren’t nearly as human as they appeared. She pondered his reasoning for keeping it, but quickly buried it with the few dozen other questions she wanted to asked. The list was growing unimaginably long. They had a job to do first.

They reached the door, just as the rain got even heavier, the sky seeming to open like a flood gate, and the heavens lashed down. Ignoring the downpour, she stared at the door; her heart beginning to race at the possibilities of what they might find behind it.

“This is definitely the place.” Connor murmured. She followed his gaze down, seeing the short distance between them and the door, littered with various footprints. Some were mud trodden shapes, other chalky remnants of sole patterned cement, dried in and layered thoughtlessly on top of one another. A few were fresher looking, darker than the rest.

“Some of these prints are recent.”

Hank nodded then looked to her, urging her towards the door. Her heart skipped a dozen beats and then some, her mind arguing that staying unknown would be the best thing to do. But then she reminded herself, she did agree to follow his instruction, no matter how cryptic the delivery.

Despite her gut telling he otherwise, Casey found herself in front of the door, knocking like there was no tomorrow and announcing her arrival to the world. There was nothing but silence in return. She looked back them for guidance. They both nodded and she knocked again.

“Hello?!” she shouted, “Anyone home?” Again, there was only silence. Then Hank stepped forward, she instinctively moved out of his way.

“Open up, Detroit Police?!” he bellowed, pounding on the door. There was still nothing. “Looks like nobody’s home. Stand back Rookie.”

“Wait what are you…” she began, but before she even finished he’d kicked in the door, “…doing?”

“Investigating.” Hank answered nonchalantly before fixing his coating and walking in kicking splinters of what used be part of the door out of his way. Connor quickly followed.

“Don’t we need a permit or something?” She was all for bending the rules a little, but some had to be followed especially if any semblance of order was to be maintained in society.

“Look kid, it’ll be better if you just play along for now. I’ll explain later how our whole team works. Got it.”

It sounded like a question but was delivered like an order. She straightened, entering behind them, “Yeah I got it. And please stop calling me kid.”

There was no attitude nor snark, it was just a simple request, but if looks could kill Hank would probably, at the very least, be on his back.

[*]

They moved slowly through the foyer, large and open, empty except for the debris made when Hank kicked in the door. The foot prints from outside, tracked in and all over the otherwise naked floor boards. Three rooms were evident, even without doors to mark them out. One to their left, large and spacious, the other two smaller and to the right as they entered. All of them equally empty at a glance.

Connor knew he should be analysing everything from the air composition, to the particles in the settled dust, but he was far too distracted by something – obviously- just as important.

Connor observed Temple closely. Her every move, every motion every flicker in her facial expressions, as she walked, taking in the scene around her. He quickly averted his gaze when her emerald eyes hovered over him. He knew it would be worse looking away, she’d know he’d been staring but he was counting on it. He wanted to know how she would react, _if_ she would react. He was entirely certain how of immoral this was, but he wanted to push this, wanted to know the limit, the breaking point. He’d only know her a handful of hours but already he had determined Officer Temple was headstrong to a fault but also compliant, eager to impress. What bothered him most of all, was that she was holding back most of her own suggestions, and her true self, if her body language was anything to go by.

Connor just wanted her to speak her mind, like he would (or rather how he should, and had been failing to do so lately). He’d not had a chance to speak candidly with many non-Androids beyond those at the station and Hank specifically; not accounting for suspects and witnesses of course. Hank had put him in charge of her for a reason, and he wagered it wasn’t just so he didn’t have to deal with her.

From the corner of his eye he could still see her staring back at him, daring him to look back; he wasn’t going to bite. Instead he turned on the spot, stepping into the bigger of the rooms. He looked everywhere but at her, taking in his surroundings but still aware of the eyes on him. He smirked in his own amusement.

The entire foyer, and he could assume by extension, the rest of the house was entirely empty; not even a sweet wrapper or stray hair seemed left behind. The dry walls were exposed, the masonry too, no paint, not even graffiti, the floor creaked underfoot as he moved in deeper and the three fanned out. The windows were blocked out with translucent films that had stained amber over the days it had hung there and no doubt the other various chemicals that had hung in the air while it was occupied; if it had been occupied at all.

He analysed the residue on the makeshift curtains, lithium, titanium oxide, nitrogen oxide. A few compounds matching the basic ingredient list for Red Ice, but also commonly associated with the yellowing of otherwise white plastics. Nothing conclusive.

Connor was beginning to have doubts, especially when his own software was coming up blank. Not finding any hint of anything illicit or otherwise. He turned back to the hall, stopping at the entrance.

“This isn’t creepy at all...” Temple mumbled from the doorless entrance to a room with exposed wiring and pipes sprouting from the walls and floor; something that might have maybe one day been a kitchen perhaps. “…like something from a horror movie.”

Her voice was soft and just barely above a whisper, loud enough that only Connor heard her remark.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed, in a whisper to match hers and turning to meet her confused gaze.

“You watch horror movies?” she asked, a brow cocked eye in disbelief.

“Yes.” He said matter-of-factly and a little too fast, his voice barely resisting the urge to crack. He met her eyes with feigned confidence.

Connor held her gaze even as Hank came back into the foyer from the other room. Having not missed a beat, nor the eagerness in his partner’s answer, he was quick to correct him. “What are you talking about, you refuse to watch horror movies! How would you know if this was like one or not?! _Research,_ does not count!”

Connor frowned and glared at him for outing him, Hank returned the look with one that said _sorry, not sorry,_ before slipping past Temple and entering the kitchenette.

“Never seen one?” she inquired, raising her voice a little, but still managing to speak softly and in a playful tone. Begrudgingly he nodded. She moved towards him and then the stairs, peering up them, a foot coming to rest on the top step. “Scared of them?”

Before he could answer, Hank trudged loudly back in the hall. “He wouldn’t know since he’s never watched one. DON’T go upstairs.” Hank spoke, the first half jovial and the latter commanding and strict.

Connor noted Temple’s barely suppressed groan as she regained her balance after stopping mid-step and stepped back from the staircase. He found himself smiling again, doing it more and more often. Why he still couldn’t fathom. Perhaps he was simply finding her temperance amusing. Whatever it was, he had come to realize (in a short amount of time) that it was a known association that only came with her.

His amusement turned sour as a faint chill settled into the back of his head, a sensation unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The world around him began to slowly collapse in on itself, like it was shrinking around him, trapping him; he couldn’t manage to move. He could hear something, something in his own head, echoing about in the deep confines he’d not even visited.

“Connor?” Temple grabbed his attention immediately with the two syllables that were his name. “Are you okay?”

Connor looked behind her to see Hank ascending the stairs; had he missed some crucial instructions in his daydreaming? Had that even been daydreaming? She was looking up at him with concern written into her soft features, as the silence lingered on it became even more apparent. The noise and the constricting had disappeared, but the feeling of uncertainty lingered.

“Connor? Your… uh, head thingy… it’s blinking amber like crazy. What does that mean? It’s not the start of a self-destruct sequence right?!” The last part she highlighted with an awkward laugh, stepping a half-stride away from him.

His LED, he consciously raised his hand to it. Now that she’d mentioned it, he was surprised she hadn’t pointed it out sooner, people always did.

“My LED.” He informed her, “Flashing indicates thinking, mostly.”

“Mostly?” she questioned, “What else then? And the colour?”

Connor thought for a moment, his mind suddenly blank, “Huh? Well, I uh….”

He couldn’t think of anything at all, he’d never had to explain it out loud. The only thing he was aware off was how odd he was starting to feel, a faint throbbing in the back of his head accompanying that icy chill that had returned and was getting stronger. He didn’t like this new feeling. He felt like he was suffocating, the fact that he didn’t require air didn’t change how it felt. He was heating up --no he wasn’t-- but that’s what it felt like; as if his body was going into overdrive, while his mind froze up. A quick diagnostic showed nothing wrong, but that obviously wasn’t the case. Then something clicked.

“It’s red now. Does that mean danger? Are you about to blow up?!” she asked, the same faint joking in her tone getting stronger.

“Yes.” He whispered.

Officer Temple stumbled back towards him, tentative reaching a nervous hand to him, “Wait what?! Connor?!”

“Red _does_ mean danger.” He clarified. It did nothing to calm her urgency. “There’s something in the building.” He said aloud for Hank, who had just descended the stairs, to hear. Hank instinctively pulled our his sidearm. “Where? Upstairs was empty, apart from some worn mattresses.”

“The basement?” Temple offered, her arms still hovering near him.

Hank rushed towards the back of the house; firearm raised. There was a cluster of random noises, mostly his old man grunting followed by an over joyous laugh. “Found it!”

Together Temple and himself, rushed to join him.

Connor was too busy still struggling to pinpoint an exact location; whatever this was didn’t feel so close by, but at the same time it did. The world was growing fuzzy and he didn’t like this mounting uncertainty. He failed to find any indications of anyone other than themselves. Was this a glitch in his brain, something equivalent to a clot in a human? Was it maybe in another house?

The sound of a scuffle forced him to look up, just in time to see an unknown, hooded face rushing towards him. He couldn’t react in time, the other colliding with him. Connor did the only thing he could think of in that moment. He reached out; he grabbed the runner by the wrist and suddenly everything went even more wrong. He could feel foreign code invading his systems. He felt even warmer as he was push back.

There was a blur of grey rushing past him and everything began to spin. He tried to take a step back, only to stumble to someone’s arms. He felt like shutting down was imminent, unavoidable and about to happen. The worst part was not knowing why, what was causing this? He felt like all control was being taken from him, like he was tumbling down the mountain he’d spent so long trying to scale.

Connor closed his eyes trying to counteract the dizzy spell. When he opened them, he was suddenly back on the podium in Detroit Plaza, after the battle for freedom had finished, when Cyberlife had attempted one last time to end the revolution using him. Now, just like then when his mind was no longer his, and he fought to seize back control. He shut his eyes again willing whatever this was to end; there was no secret door in the code this time that he could use to get out.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle grip on his forearm, felt the soft material of his coat crinkling against the light pressure. Looking down he saw nothing, but still he felt it.

Around him was chaos, a whirlwind of simulated wind, the world falling apart, large chunks of data breaking off vanishing from the digital illusion. He could hear something now, something faint amid the influx of sudden random information. Something strikingly familiar.

Once again he closed his eyes focusing on that sound, it was out of place, and so he followed it.

In the darkness things weren’t much better, where the Zen garden would have welcomed him this time a year ago, the coldness of a monochromatic echo of the place, dead looking and decaying, embraced him. A sharp chilling spike of unwelcome familiarity struck him; he felt like was being submerged in an ice-bath rather than simply strolling alongside a rising tide. The suffocating feeling multiplied tenfold and then… he heard it.

Like a whisper, something calling out. No, not something, someone. He focused reaching out with his mind trying the discern the sound. Slowly it became clearer, and then he heard it.

“CONNOR!”

He felt the sudden urge to open his eyes.

[*]

Androids where apparently a lot heavier that Casey gave them credit for. Catching Connor was the least she could when she noticed him lilting a little too far to the left, clutching his head, as he tried to give chase. It took mere seconds for him to go from standing to unwillingly ending up in her arms dragging them both to the floor.

“Connor!” she called out, shaking him like it would have any effect. “Connor?! What’s happening? Open your eyes dammit!”

She took his face in her hands, shaking him again. Then she noticed his LED, once again a bright and burning shade of red, but not flickering, steady and constant and blaring alarm to her that something wasn’t right. She tried to think, and with nothing coming to mind she did the only thing she could.

Shifting his weight off herself, she laid him flat on the ground, and kept trying to wake him up. “Connor? Connor! Come on, don’t go dying on my first day! How do you think that’ll reflect on me?!”

She replayed what had happened over and over trying to figure it out, something out, anything. Hank had been knocked to the floor as the suspect bolted from the basement steps. A flurry of arms as they pushed past him and raced onwards the front door not giving her a second thought, knocking Connor aside.

The last thing she remembered before Connor dropped was that he’d grabbed them, and as she’d stumbled to try catch and him, Hank (having recovered himself) when bounding after them. Then Connor had collapsed. The moment it clicked in her head it all made sense. Connor had been acting odd before, but it was only once he’d made contact that he’d dropped.

Images from the casefile rushed through her mind’s eye, the short account of ‘ _Digi_ - _Ice’_ , popped up first with a fanfare and confetti. She dropped her eyes to the still dormant android in front of her.

“Trust you to get high on the job…” she scoffed. Trying to make light of the situation if only for herself.

His body visibly flinched. The tentative smile she had quickly faded. “Connor!” she shouted, grabbing hold of his arm. “Connor!”

Casey could do nothing but wait for him to snap out of it; shaking him and calling his name every so often. Watching him intently, she almost forgot she could monitor it by keeping an eye on his LED, she noticed it only when it flickered from red to amber and blinked steadily.

Slowly, she leaned over him, “Connor?”

His eyes shot open, the rich brown colour rushing back to it full liveliness. Simply seeing him blink was enough to relieve her tension. He sat up, more or less shooting upright, and took in his surroundings as if trying to recollect what had just happened. He looked confused, maybe even a little scared; did he even know where he was?

Casey gave him a moment to gather himself, watching his gaze wander before landing on her. He made a move, attempting to stand only to end up back on his ass. “Take it easy. Are you okay? You just sort of… dropped.”

He seemed to contemplate the world, the universe and everything in it in the blink of an eye, and then had the gall to ask her, “Are _you_ okay _?”_

“I’m not the one who collapsed. Hank went after the other guy. What exactly happened? Do you even know?”

The look he made pained her, he looked hurt, betrayed somehow, like something he’d believed to be true had just unquestionably been proven wrong. He looked about to burst with questions, his lips trembling on the cusp of words only to remained silent.

“You don’t have to push yourself…” she calmed him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

His ‘breath’ hitched when he finally spoke, his brow furrowed a tight crease forming there, “I- I don’t know… I don’t know what… I thought I saw… ah!”

He gripped his head with one hand, steadying himself with the other. He looked ready to keel over again. Casey held on tight to his arm, she didn’t know what else to do, so she just held him, made sure he knew someone was there, that he wasn’t alone. Once he seemed to have gathered some semblance of balance and his LED was blinking amber at a much slower rate she decided it was time to move.

“Let’s try standing again, yeah? You up for that?”

Connor nodded in response, accepting her aid. He managed to stand, although he was still a little shaky. He just stood allowing himself to get familiar with standing again, as if he hadn’t used his legs in a long time. Seeing him like this, if it wasn’t for the LED, and the fact that she already knew, she’d never guess in a millions years that he wasn’t human. The emotion in his expression was so raw and cutting it wounded her to see it .

She allowed him to lean on her and took a step back only when he look stable enough; holding her arms out ready to catch him if he looked ready to fall again; she already knew from experience she wouldn’t be able to stop him from hitting the floor, but she could at least soften the blow.

“You alright?” she dared to ask again.

Just then a panting, and thoroughly spent, Lieutenant Anderson returned, oblivious to all that had transpired in his absence. Casey swallowed nervously, he looked furious.

He looked between them, fury dripping from his aura. “You okay?” he asked Connor, his tone livid but concerned, when his partner nodded he turned to her, anger seeping into his words effortlessly. “What the fuck was that kid?! When you see someone run what do you do?”

Casey felt her heart race, anxiety gripping her stomach, twisting it into intricate knots that would take her hours of painstaking self-reflection to be rid of. Her only concern had been Connor, seeing him fall she’d let everything else leave her mind. She was sure Hank could handle one guy, but apparently not. She gritted her teeth, submitting to his rage and keeping quiet a while longer, not trusting herself to not explode there and then.

“Hank, I…” Connor tried to speak, she noticed his LED flickering faster than before; still amber, still alarmingly bright.

“I’m talking to Miss Valedictorian.” Hank snapped. “Answer me kid! What do you do when you get a runner?” he pressed.

Casey swallowed, steeled herself and then answered. “You chase after them.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you run after him?!”

She forced herself to make eye contact, refusing to back down, even for this. Just as she was about answer him again the sounding of a loud scream drew all of their attention back to the basement.

Without hesitating, Casey practically sprinted deeper into the building and skipped down the staircase into the basement; closely followed by a still fuming Anderson and a mostly recovered Connor.

She tried the light switch, it was busted. She strained to see with the little light streaming down the stairs behind her, blocked by the trudging shadow of Hank. The only other light was the serene twinkling of blue and red like a sea of sparkling fairy lights splayed across the floor. Another scream sounded across the room. She followed the sounds, slowly stepping out in the sparkling sea, her eyes adjusting to the dark as the screaming turned to barely supressed sobbing. When Hank pulled out his torch and lit up the room her heart stumbled, and bile rose to the back of her throat; she felt ill.

Before them, Androids, at least a dozen, _no, far more than that._ They were chained up, made immobile, their legs removed or destroyed to the point of being inoperable; their insides mostly no longer inside. In the middle of the room was a woman, presumably an Android too, her back turned to them. She was sobbing and clutching her head, just like Connor had done. Without thinking Casey moved to her side and tentatively held her.

The woman stopped, sound ceasing the moment Casey made contact. Her eyes shallow set and glassy crawled up to meet Casey’s and together the entire room screamed their last, a loud and near deafening shriek followed by deathly silence. Casey felt her throat tighten, as the Android toppled over into an expired heap in front of her. She looked up at the other Androids in the room, who’d slumped in their respective positions, their twinkling lights dimming, and suddenly she felt very dizzy.

Footsteps of her partners behind her urged her stand again. “They all just stopped…” she mumbled when she saw the look on Hank’s face; he pushed past her and into the room, regarding the scene. Connor remained at the end of the stairway, massaging the side of his head. His eyes locked on hers for the briefest of moments while Hank pulled out his phone dialling for back up. Suddenly everything felt very, very real.

[*]

The rain didn’t let up, it persisted into the evening; falling in non-stop torrents, slowly destroying the earth below, even as the forensic teams and crime scene investigators began to arrive.

Connor leaned against the hood of Hanks car; one of many now parked just outside the estate. Lights flashed red and blue around him, the nearby street lights hummed and flickered in the encroaching dark. The sun was low in the sky and still creeping slowly away, appalled by the chaos unfurling. The peaceful scene they’d entered earlier that afternoon now a maddening slew of faces, most wearing hazmat suits, carryings bulky cameras and cases of tools, bags of evidence.

It was now a crime scene, but not the one they’d expected. It was like so many others he’d seen and oddly it had his reminiscing about his first case. He folded his arms around himself as a strong chilling wind rushed the complex, with no real reason to other than it felt natural to respond that way. He still felt odd, not even close to himself, after his earlier experience, and stranger yet couldn’t fully fathom what had happened.

It was as if his mind had simply ceased to be for the mere minutes he’d blacked out. Like there was a block, a filter preventing him from seeing the truth and ensuring the concealment of whatever its true purpose was. It hadn’t succeeded however; at least he hoped. He just barely had he fought back and won, forced through that dark abyss, and opened his eyes again. That sound, the voice, if not for it he might not have made it back. He couldn’t supress the shiver that shook him, thinking that he might’ve ended up like the others they’d found. The lingering pain caused by their dying shriek still throbbing in his head.

He scanned his systems for the fifth time since their backup had arrived, and for the fifth time the results showed nothing out of the ordinary; not even the faintest hint of anything new in his system. As if nothing had happened. He wasn’t sure why by the lack of anything only served to make him more concerned. Deciding not to dwell on chasing shadows, he shelfed the query for now turning his attention across the lot; to where Officer Temple was talking to another officer, no doubt giving her own account of events, so that everything was recorded accurately.

Again, he found himself staring. She was so animated, alive and vibrant in the bizarre kaleidoscope of colour around her, as she recounted the events; mute to him but his lip-reading software was able to decipher most of it when she turned vaguely in his direction.

 _‘… not sure what happened… there was no one and then a guy came out of nowhere. Lieutenant Anderson chased after him…’_ there was a pause and her brow furrowed, that same knot of muscle creasing right in the centre, he smirked but quickly supressed his amusement. _‘What, no, I didn’t… because…’_ he held his gaze on her even when her own eyes blinked in his direction. _‘… because there was someone else in the house. Connor and I, tended to her…’_

Both Temple and the Officer turned away, ending his eavesdropping session. Connor was sure to take note of her generous omission of his _accident_ , feeling a surge of something unidentifiable in his chest; was it gratitude? Or simply the police officer in him tutting at the illegality of it. Why didn’t he want anyone to know, he couldn’t understand his own reasoning. It was only when Hank joined him, bringing a large black umbrella to shelter him, that he snapped from his reverie.

“Well, seems that email bomb was the real deal. Although this isn’t strictly speaking ‘Red Ice’ related. Crazy. Hey, you listening?” Hank spoke, nudging Connor with his elbow. “You tripping or something? What happened to you, when that guy ran? You fell over?”

Connor was quiet simply bowing his head. After a while he looked up and shrugged, “I’m not entirely sure.”

Hank held his gaze, concern knitted into the lines on his face. He inhaled deeply before letting it out slowly. “That so? Let’s get a drink. Cool your head off yeah?”

“Hank, you know I don’t need to drink.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t _need_. But you _can_ and it’ll beat me drinking alone. Invite her too, if you like, or get a chance. I should work of apologising for snapping at her.”

Hank was then silent again as both of them looked up to young Officer Temple, who was finishing up the short interview. She seemed to really fit in already and he was glad he hadn’t tried to engage in anything other than basic comradery so far. He had a feeling about her, he wasn’t sure what exactly this feeling was, but it was there. And like always his curiosity was winning out.

[*]

Casey was now thinking that perhaps it would have been better to accept Connor’s invitation to join them for a drink after the scene was controlled. Once again she found herself in the CDPD, alone. She was sitting at Connor’s desk, swinging back and forth on the chair, trying to get her head back in the zone to finish writing the report. It would be better to have everything squared away so they could continue from where they left off rather than struggle through the arguments that would likely ensue from trying to piece it together tomorrow; especially with the aftermath of alcohol mixed into the equation.

Writing the report was easy enough; Hank had run her through the process in the record speed. They’d also had to fill out a few during their training.

‘ _Just fill in the blanks. Fact. Not Fiction. Don’t speculate. Don’t omit.’_

And with that he and Connor had left at the early hour of 5pm; way too early to start drinking if you asked her. But still, filling in a basic question/answer form with the same information she’d given to the onsite officers, she couldn’t help becoming unimaginably bored very quickly. She reviewed her detailed account for the millionth time and sighed leaning back in the chair, feeling that familiar itch growing at the back of her head; she needed to move.

Resisting, only barely Casey sat forward again and filed the report before logging off the desktop and checking the time. It was nearing 6 now. The office was still buzzing with activity; though mildly subdued due to the impinging evening, like everyone she was ready to go home. But that itch, the questions racing through her mind, the need to know more; it was persistent, it was gnawing at the back of her brain. _What exactly was going on? Why were so many Androids being kept like that? What did anything in that house have to do with ‘Red Ice’?!What the hell had happened to Connor?_

Connor… her mind stayed on him. She had chosen not to share his little problem with the officers, instead saying that he’d simply stumbled before they’d moved on the basement. Hank’s voice rang in her head like an alarm, _‘Don’t omit!’_ But Connor hadn’t seemed to content on sharing it even with Hank at the time. She wasn’t entirely sure of the reasoning behind why she’d decided to keep quiet about. She barely knew him, it’s not like she should concern herself with him _that_ way. If anything, she should be telling anyone that will listen. What if there was something more to it? _What if you’re just overthinking it?_ Her mind queried. _What if I’m not thinking enough?_ She took a deep breath and looked to the luminous pink sticky notes neatly lined up on the board to her left; his neat writing so perfectly aligned with the edges, each letter so mathematically precise it looked printed. Android’s had been designed with perfection in mind after all, and Connor was no exception.

Casey read and revised the words he’d written and felt that itch get stronger. ‘Believe you can and you’re halfway there’. She wasn’t sure what it meant to him, she didn’t need to know, but just knowing that he was like anyone else; in need to a cringey positive quote to keep him remotely sane, made her think she’d not been wrong to stay quiet, at least for now.

In that moment the itch, the desire to get up and go, to talk to him about it won her over. She had given in to the itch. Pulling her phone from her pocket and rapidly typing out a text, sending it to her new partner, she didn’t wait for an answer before getting up to leave.

“Where’re you going Rookie?” she heard Reed snipe as she passed his desk. She was going to ignore him until he jumped up once again blocking her path, she wasn’t in the mood for his messing. “I asked you a question Bot!”

With more finesse than that morning she forced her gaze up to him; _Believe you can…_ She inhaled sharply and stepped towards him; like before he backed away. With a sly smirk growing on her fine lips, he really wasn’t as tough as he made himself out to be. She sauntered around him as he stood dumbfounded by her persistent, impossible confidence that only seemed to flame up in his presence.

Casey only looked back after she’d arrived at the security pass and looked back to him. “Where are you going?” he asked her again, a look of rage induced annoyance coating his features, his fist clenched at his side. She could swear he was trembling a little. His voice betrayed how feeble he felt.

“Anywhere you aren’t.” she said swiping her card, showing him an impolite finger and leaving the station.

[*]

Connor watched as Hank knocked back his third glass of whiskey. It was strong stuff, 80% proof. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his superior.

“I thought you’d stopped the whole day-drinking business?” he put to his partner. Lifting his own glass; filled with water, sipping at it, he watched Hank glare jokingly at him.

“What are you talking about? This is obviously evening drinking!” Hank laughed, signalling the bartender for another. Connor lifted his own glass and followed Hank to the nearest booth, settling across from him.

Connor could help but smile and shake his head at him, then stood alarmed at the buzzing in his pocket.

“That would be your phone.” Hank assured him, chuckling to himself. “You’re really messed up after earlier, aren’t you? Or wait, are you still not used to the phone?”

Connor awkwardly pulled the small device from his pocket and regarded the blinking light on the front of it.

“As you are well aware. I am more accustomed to less… physical forms of long-distance communication. In fact, I prefer the less physical form.” He unlocked the phone, which he only owned for Hank’s sake, and regarded the message bubble that had popped up on the screen. “It’s from Officer Temple.” He announced.

“Casey, just call the damn girl by her name.” Hank groaned, rubbing his eyes, slurping a new beverage.

“I believe I should ask for her permission to refer to her on such a familiar level, or at the very least earn it.”

Connor read the message, _‘Hey, that offer for drinks still standing?’_

“She wants to join us.” He said plainly. He thought for a moment about what to do. “Should I tell her where we are?”

He looked up to Hank to was eyeing him closely. It was as if he was trying to get a read of what he was thinking and somehow failing to do so.

“Do you want to tell her where we are?” He questioned back.

Connor blinked and regarded the message once more. He set the phone on the table. “I _think_ I do, yes.”

“Then tell her already. Stop looking to me for approval. I can’t make all the easy decisions for you.”

He turned his head in a gesture of confusion. “Easy decision? I was merely…”

The smile growing Hank’s face stopped him in his tracks.

“Connor, you’ve been acting weird lately, well, weirder than normal for you anyway. You’ve not been yourself, and honestly I’m getting more than a little concerned. It’s been nearly a year since all that Deviant stuff and I can’t help but think your still stuck back then; trying to follow a blueprint, instructions that don’t exist. What you need is to be more be impulsive. Don’t think about the little things. Just do it. You know like that old sports ad. Just. Do. It.”

Connor was listening intently. “The little things?”

“Yeah, you know like, why I’m drinking this early on a Monday and whether or not you should invite a girl to a place she was already invited. It’s not like we’re on duty. We’re just two pals sharing a quiet drink. So, long story short, don’t just ask me for permission, do want you want.”

 _What I want…what do I want?_ Connor had been asking himself that very question every day since he’d freed himself from the shackles of predefined programming. _Want_ was not something Androids had been engineered to experience. They would _need_ things occasionally, maintenance, upkeep, additional instruction, but _want_ that a new level of independence that he hadn’t been fully prepared for. He made do by keeping himself as busy as possible, ensuring there was never a moment when his mind was free to ponder the question of what it was that he wanted. He wasn’t always successful.

He supposed he wanted to be as human as the rest of them, and in chasing that goal he did research, lots of research; mostly regarding human nature and the common practices employed in their natural ways of living. Reading and understanding where one thing, putting it into practice was another.

“Connor, you’re thinking too much, and zoning out again.” Hank clicked his fingers before his eyes drawing him back to the land of the living and consciously aware. “What exactly is so difficult about this?”

Well, that was just it wasn’t it? He didn’t know why it was so difficult. Acting on impulse should be easy, it was after all, impulsive; it meant acting on feeling rather than logical thought. Or as it had once meant, acting according to his programming. It had been easier when he had a set purpose in mind. Connor stared at Hank and shrugged. The Lieutenant had somehow ordered another drink in the time he’d spent thinking and he was bringing it to his lips when Connor thought, _don’t think, act._ _Practice don’t preach. Don’t hesitate. Impulsive, be impulsive._

He grabbed Hank’s wrist, stopping the glass from meeting its destination. He was going to try this, again, for the millionth time, as many times as it took to get it right. He swallowed needlessly, a way of letting Hank know how unsure he was; a human reflex to an undetermined outcome.

“Firstly, I want you to stop drinking.” He simply said, his voice flat but firm.

Hank scoffed but released his pull, letting Connor know he’d conceded to the request. He returned the half full glass to the table and Connor moved it to the side.

“You meant for the moment not in the long-term right?” he sighed with a pained chuckle, smirking at him.

“Hank…” Connor began, he wanted to let him know about earlier, about what had happened, about what he’d seen when his mind went blank. Yes, that’s what he wanted. He’d start with that. He sat straighter having made his own choice. “Hank, I need to talk to you about earlier-“

“Hey guys! Room for one more?”

Connor shot around to see Officer Temple just behind them, walking casually towards them. He couldn’t remember replying to her. He turned to his phone still lying on the table unlocked, noticing his own response bubble, he felt the room spin momentarily, his LED flashing in alarm as he tried to pinpoint when exactly he’d answered her message. Thankfully his panic was quickly doused, when Hank laid a reassuring hand on his forearm.

“Relax kid, I answered the message while you were in the twilight zone. Now move up and let her sit down.”

It was instinctive, the acting of sliding up the worn leather seat to allow her space. It was just as instinctive when he raised his hand to take her coat and stuffed it by the window so they could continue without a symbolic wall between them. It was impulsive when he found himself immediately focusing his gaze on her tired profile, taking in every minute detail and committing it to memory. It was no surprise then, to everyone but him, when she met his gaze a strong lingering shine of concern lying there. She grimaced and then angled herself towards the two of them.

“I think we need to talk about what happened earlier.” And for a moment his mind stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hopefully you enjoyed it too. 
> 
> The following chapters should come quicker since now I've got a good idea of how it'll all play out now. I've had this story concept written since the 2018 but didn't do anything with it until now.
> 
> As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Thank you!


	4. A Quiet Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They discuss what they know. Connor confides in Hank. Hank makes an observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write. But after many attempts here it is. 
> 
> Any feedback on this would be great, because it was very dialogue heavy and i suck at writing meaningful dialogue.
> 
> Many thanks, and i hope you enjoy.

The bar was far from silent, but for all the attention Connor was giving it may as well have been. Other patrons of the establishment carried on their idle conversations unaware of the sudden and short-lived paralysis of his own thoughts. Hearing Officer Temple repeat the exact words he’d said not a minute before, he wasn’t sure why, but it made him happy; he thought that’s what this feeling was at least. His chest felt tighter, his thirium pump strained to keep up, this was an extreme form of happiness by his own experiences.

As the innerworkings of his mind whirred and buzzed back to real-time processing speed, he finally responded to her. Well he tried. He assumed he was still suffering some side effects of earlier as when he tried to speak nothing more than an anxious squeak escape him. His further attempt to disguise it as a common cough and nothing more than an attempt to clear his throat served only to heighten the concern etched into her young features. Her green eyes only widening in response. In a last-ditch attempt to fix the situation, he snatched his drink and gulped it down. From the corner of his eyes he saw her gaze narrow in suspicion. He’d all but forgotten his old friend sitting across from them.

“Wait, what happened this morning?” Hank suddenly asked. Drawing to Connor’s attention that he was in fact acting a little weird, or as he’d be told ‘ _weirder_ _than_ _usual’_.

Hank blink between the two of them, a thousand questions hanging silent in the air between. The chilling atmosphere was staved off only by the warmth of the dull chatter around them.

Connor could feel Temple staring him out, imagined the darkened moss green of her eyes in the dim lighting. He felt like they were screaming at him, and yet the look he’d see in them would be so calm he wouldn’t be able to stop himself relaxing. He turned to meet her eyes, confirming his thoughts, feeling his shoulders drop and his chest loosen at the sight of the subtle assurance that was there.

“So, you feel like talking about it?” she asked him, her tone encouraging and anything but forceful. He was grateful for this. Even still he couldn’t find it in himself to start. This was want he wanted right? So why suddenly did he feel so apprehensive about it. He didn’t have to think long to get the answer. He was afraid. Afraid of the implications that would come from saying it out loud, what repeating it might mean. Connor could feel himself frowning, the only time he could remember being this unsure about himself was the night Markus had opened his eyes and helped him to see a grander reality. He’d been timid about that and eventually submitted, things had turned out well since then. He resolved to continue when he’d convinced himself he could get similar results.

Composing himself and softening his stare Connor took a much unneeded breath. “I was about to tell Hank about it, Officer Temple.”

He made sure to keep his tone as crisp and clear as he could manage to. When her own suspecting glare softened he allowed himself a small victory dance in his head.

“Really?” he could tell she didn’t entirely believe him.

“Yes.” Connor confirmed, looking to Hank, who nodded grumbling something garbled under his breath.

Temple’s eyes widened, as she looked back to him. “Oh, guess I was fretting over nothing then.”

Fretting? Connor repeated the word in his head, playing back her tone and annunciation over and over. She was worried? But why? They’d only met that morning; they were nothing more than work colleagues. Perhaps this was just another part of her multifaceted personality, he’d read that some humans were natural worriers she was likely one of them.

Another deep grumble escaped from across the table drawing the both of them to look to their superior officer. Hank looked tired and more than a little peeved. He sighed loudly and exasperated, nursing his now empty glass between his hands. “It’s like you two are conspiring against me. Spit it out already, _what_ happened earlier?”

His tone was aggressive, but just barely, clearly feigned. This was the tone Connor has come to know as Hank’s everyday indoor voice, especially when things were work related. Connor suddenly found himself thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a good after all. Hank’s old deep-set eyes peered out from the shadow of his brow. It was as if he could already anticipate the potential seriousness of the conversation about to unfold.

Connor searched for the words, choosing carefully. “Earlier, the suspect- the runner- they… I’m not sure exactly but I think I was hacked. Or there was an attempt.”

Hank’s eyes blew wide open, a bubbling mix of rage and concern filling the blue of them with a fiery hue; or was that just the lighting? “The hell! Why didn’t you mention this earlier? You didn’t get checked out either did you? Dammit Connor, I told you-“

“He passed out.” Temple interrupted, “That’s why I didn’t chase.”

Hank let out an agitated breath. Connor took the opportune silence to carry on.

“I… it was like everything was cut off, I couldn’t do or see anything.” Before adding more, he tried to make sense of it all. He reordered the events and attempted to link it to something. Try as he might, it was seeming to be impossible. He’d been forced to relive a high stress event that he still struggled to forget. Then he’d entered the Zen Garden, his old HUB; a place that with the commercial closure of Cyberlife’s Android production, went offline. It was a place that shouldn’t exist. So what was it? Just a forced manifestation of his own memories… it was a plausible explanation. “I saw things, from the Revolution. The last time Cyberlife tried to control me.”

Hank nodded, “I remember you telling me about it, you think it was them trying again?”

“It felt the same. Like my own systems were freezing up, like something else was taking over. But it was different too. So it’s unlikely it was Cyberlife. There was a voice too. I couldn’t recognise it but once I focused on that the scene started falling apart. Then I _woke_ up.”

While Hank’s face remained grim Temple chimed in after her long silence. “The voice, did it maybe sound like me?”

Hank scoffed. Connor meanwhile contemplated this. The voice hadn’t one he could say he recognised, but then again he had felt like he was about to die, so maybe…

“Why would it sound like you?” Hank put to her, a suggestive tone lacing his words that Connor couldn’t decipher the meaning behind.

“Well, because I might have just sat there shaking him and shouting his name over and over until he came around…” she laughed nervously, her cheeks turning a darker shade; or was that just the lighting again? “I’m not Android Doctor, or whatever they call them, I had no clue what else to do!”

Hank was laughing, provoking only a more defensive outburst from her. Connor could only watch, as she flushed an even deeper colour at whatever was being said. He enjoyed watching her, it was fascinating how her entire being moved, alive and full of energy. He met many people but none so alive as her.

“What else was I going to do? Perform CPR? It’s not like he wasn’t breathing!” she suddenly exclaimed before folding her arms and pouting.

Connor let out an uncharacteristic laugh of his own, impulsively answering without thinking, “Technically I’m never breathing, it’s a secondary program that helps to make me appear more human. An attempt at CPR would likely have done more damage than good.”

Both Temple and Hank looked at him, their expressions ones of complete amusement. Temple’s folded arms loosened as she chuckled in response to him.

“Wow, I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.” Hank said, raising his empty glass to his lips and frowning, before turning to Temple. “You think that hacking attempt swapped his personality kid?”

“Doubt it, and don’t call me _kid.”_ she snapped. Connor noticed her hands hand grown restless, as she began drumming her fingers on the table.

Hank gasped, “You really don’t like to be called kid? Why? It’s not I’m like insulting you.”

Connor watched in earnest, a small smile still on his face from laughing, but that quickly faded when an incensed glower crept onto her face. He was certain it wasn’t because of the lighting. “Just don’t call me kid. Alright.” She sighed, her body exhibiting all the signs of someone in extreme discomfort. Shifting restlessly in her seat, the frown etched into her brow. “I’m going to get a drink. Same again?”

Hank shook his head as she stood, Connor did the same. They sat in complete silence as they watched her go. Connor stared much longer than was necessary.

“Must have been what her dad called her I’m guessing.” Hank muttered.

“Perhaps.”

Connor turned back to him, suddenly casting what had just happened away. Returning to the main topic of the conversation. “About what happened. There’s no trace of anything in my systems. It looks like nothing even happened.”

Hank flicked him on the forehead. Connor slack jawed, flinching but unamused. “You are getting really forgetful these days. Blue-Ice, Connor, Blue-Ice.”

Of course, he thought. How had he not thought of that. The Android counterpart to the human’s Red-Ice, Digi-Ice; but more commonly termed as Blue-Ice. With the advent of Android autonomy, there came the opportunity to try and market new things towards them, and that included drugs; in this case short strings of code that simulated what it was like to be high. If what he’d experienced was a high, then he never wanted to experience that again. He supposed the only good thing about the _drug_ was that it destroyed itself as it delivered the odd experience, an odd addition to the programming that was the icing on top of the metaphorical cake of simulated highs. That explained why he couldn’t find anything obvious. He ran a deeper system diagnostic and still came back with nothing. And the surety in the Blue-Ice theory flourished. It made more sense that a spontaneous Cyberlife attack.

“Of course. I was needlessly concerned.” He said nodding.

Hank scoffed, “You’re still getting checked first thing in the morning. No arguments! That shit might be designed to disappear after use, but I don’t trust it. Not with those other Androids we found.”

Again Connor found himself nodding. The other Androids. The image of their captivity returned to him, the mess of wiring and fresh spilled Thirium still fresh in his head. The thought of their purpose did little to stun him, he’d been doing this job for a long time now. Hank and himself, working with the Red-Ice Task Force to crack down on the production and distribution of the drug. If the building site had been a production area, then those Androids… he shook his head.

“You think they were testing stronger strains on them.” He stated, not missing the frown settling in to Hank’s already pronounced wrinkles. That’s exactly what he was thinking. There was little other evidence to suggest they were wrong. They’d know more soon enough. Hopefully it would provide the answers they needed.

As if reading his mind Hank cleared his throat. “Well have more information soon enough. Let’s not think about it anymore. I didn’t come here to think about work and that’s all we’ve talked about since we got here!”

Just then Temple returned, sitting down to bright orange drink. “What did I miss?” Connor noted how much happier she sounded already. A quick scan of her drink show 0% alcohol and 100% orange juice. He added this observation to the file he’d begun compiling on her in his head.

Ever the people pleaser Connor found himself recounting their conversation while Hank just stared at him, shaking his head.

Another silence fell, until Temple shifted in her seat, cleared her throat and drummed her fingertips across the table, her own drink ignored.

“What if, it wasn’t just a coincidence.” She stated.

They both turned to face her, their faces equally as curious as the other. Both asking the silent question of ‘ _what_ _do_ _you_ _mean_?’ The young officer, chewed at her lips, seeming to already be doubting, or perhaps she was trying to find the _right_ words before she started. He knew when she was about her speak, her heart steadied, and a hardened resolve settled into her gaze as she took a deep breath.

“This is just me speculating with the information we’ve got, but… I don’t think you got that info dump today just by chance. I think whoever sent it, wanted you go searching. The only location on that list that you could have searched without waiting for a permit was that building site. All of the others were occupied, in public spaces.”

She paused pulling her glass close to herself, her green eyes dropping; the dim, warm lighting in the bar intensifying the warmth of the glow from the fruity drink. “I think that you were meant to go there, to find those androids. Whatever happened wasn’t just an accident.”

Connor pondered this possibility as Hank scoffed in disbelief. Despite the lack in the weight of evidence backing up this speculation it was possible she was right. But it was also equally as possible that it wasn’t.

“I know, it sounds stupid…” she mumbled, as Hank disregarded her suggestion, stating it was too farfetched. Connor disagreed, it almost seemed too good to be true, getting all that information and being able to act on it in the same breath. He didn’t doubt her reasoning only its plausibility. “Forget I mentioned it, I’m sure you guys don’t want to talk about work.”

As Hank agreed with her, he began rambling again about how they’d know more in the coming days. Connor couldn’t help but further her speculation in his own head. Only for the lack of evidence, it seemed possible and altogether not outside the realms of anything an Anti-Android group would do. But why? It was obvious to anyone with a brain that functioned within normal parameters that, even though peace had been reached throughout the previous year, tensions were still high between those who still refused to accept them. He even worked with one, a prime example of Anti-Android mentality, one straw short of an activist; Detective Gavin Reed. He didn’t go beyond daily insults, and the odd shove. Captain Fowler, had been laying the pressure on him, warning him constantly that if he didn’t pull his act together he’d be transferred, or worse for a career Officer like him, removed entirely.

“Yeah, Scott didn’t care much for a drink either.” Hank laughed, disturbing the steam of Connor’s conscious thoughts. That was another topic he was curious about.

“I don’t like the taste, or the after affects.” Temple told him, her warm hand hugging the now slightly emptied glass. Connor was quick to catch on, he was talking about her drink and her father.

“Yeah, he didn’t either. One time I did manage to get him drunk he was an over emotional mess. Lost his watch, can say I’d never seen a grown man cry so much in my life up to that point.” Hank smiled, true happiness at the memory coming to the forefront of his mind. Connor smile in response to this, he’d only seen the grumpy old gent smile genuinely a handful of times, more so frequent as time passed. “Excuse me.”

Hank rose, grumbled something unintelligible and then made his way over the restroom. Leaving the two of them together. Connor lifted his own glass and sipped away the last few mouthfuls.

“Didn’t know androids could drink.” she remarked before quickly hiding behind her own glass, and unceremoniously downing half its contents. She cleared her throat as she returned the glass to the table, slamming it down a little harder than she intended if the grimace on her face at the loudness of the contact was anything to go by. She stared at the orange liquid, as if willing the glass to refill by magic.

“While I don’t require it to live, yes, I can drink, and also eat. This, however, is just water.” He lifted it and sipped again at the nothing in it. “Officer Temple?”

She’d been staring blankly at the glass in front of her for a while now, and she also hadn’t blinked in just as long. He reached out tentatively, unsure of his actions. They weren’t close enough by social rules to merit physical contact like this, all his research screamed that at him to stop. Yet, when the touch receptors in his hands collected the data telling him the material of her coat was soft, mildly damp too (it must still be raining) he felt like it had been the right thing to do. Her eyes snapping to his in fleeting confusion before she pulled away from his touch.

“Call me Casey, alright?” she said, a sly smirk making its way onto her lips again.

Connor was shocked at the sudden familiarity but accepted. “Casey… okay. I’ll call you Casey. And you call me Connor.”

Her brows furrowed together; puzzlement clear as she looked back at him again. “Not like I’ve been calling you anything else. Or have I been mispronouncing it this whole time?”

He felt an unnatural heat rise in his face at her sarcastic tone, if it were part of his design he was sure he’d be blushing.

“Huh… you can blush too?” she gasped. Connor at that moment was thankful for his ability to retain everything he ever saw with his eyes. Her eyes scrunched up as she laughed before finishing. “You’re full of surprises.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to tell her that he too was surprised at this turn of events. He hadn’t even been aware of his ability to blush; had he been doing it all along and not realised it. He felt the heat in his face multiply tenfold. How could he override this programme? Was it something he even could switch off? The catalogue of system directives, the ones that were equivalent to the subconscious bodily functions of a human’s organic systems, didn’t give away any clues of this being one.

In the middle of his mini crisis, he didn’t notice Officer Temple, no, Casey, returning the comforting gesture to him. Her hand on his shoulder. As always he couldn’t stop himself from seeing it was her right hand; the one furthest from him. He’d tried to ignore it, but it was annoying him that he couldn’t figure it out.

“Why do you only use your right hand?” the question was out before he’d even processed the reason why he wanted to ask it, and that was any time she’d come into contact with anyone, at least in the nearly 12 hours he’d known her, she’d only used her right hand. Her left hand, even now Casey pulled it close to herself, almost defensively; she’d not touched another living soul with all day.

“Huh? I use my left too. I’m left-handed you know.” She answered, abruptly and a little too quickly. She seemed even more taken aback when he pointed out the odd specificity of her use of it. Then her smiley face turned grim, as she turned back to glare at the table. “Um… I thought you’d have read my file. You know, background checks and all that.”

He had considered it, but he was trying to fulfil his promise to Hank, the one of many where he tried doing things the human way. He had almost broken that promise earlier when his interest was piqued at the mention of her father, a mistake he’d quickly talked himself out of.

“I’m trying the old-fashioned way of getting to know you.” He told her; his voice low.

She stared at him. Just stared. Her eyes looked him up and down, and up and down. Then she chuckled, her shoulders shaking as she silently laughed to herself. “Like I said, full of surprises.”

Then just at Connor was certain the situation was ideal for talking more, Hank returned. Yet another fresh drink in hand. He failed to supress an eyeroll as he immediately removed the glass from Hank’s reach, the old officer giving him a less than playful glare sending him signals that could only mean I’ll kill you in the nicest way. “You agreed to stop.” Connor reminded him.

Hank simply waved him off, “I’ll stop tomorrow.”

“You know what they say about tomorrow, right?” Casey chimed in so casually it was like she’d always been there as part of the team and butting in was just something she could do?

Connor knew exactly what they said about tomorrow; he’d had to quickly brush up on general rhetoric’s and common sayings with Hank around. The man was extremely fond of them, it had only taken one too many misunderstandings following his Deviancy for Connor to finally sit down and research the entire etymology of the phrases and their common uses. He was fairly certain unless some other android had dedicated their very existence to the study of such things, that he was the only one within the confines of Detroit that understood them and their various uses. Like now, he told himself again he knows exactly what they say about tomorrow.

Almost too in synch for it to be accidental both he and the newly dubbed Casey, spoke out, “Tomorrow never comes.”

They looked to each other as Hank just laughed, snatching his drink back and happily lapping it up. Casey smiled, and sighed out. Once again Connor caught himself staring into her eyes, awed by the green glow. Then something else. She snapped her gaze away when Hank began talking.

“So, new kid- sorry, uh Casey, why’d you sign up for this job?” he asked.

Casey sat and seemed to consider it all, and carefully, before choosing to answer.

“I guess it was a natural route to take. I mean, you know my dad was a cop. I never wanted to be one, but I ended up here all the same. I tried a lot of things before ending up with an application in my hand.” She smiled, as if recalling the journey to this point and how wonderfully complicated it had been. He was sure it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows; the right path rarely was.

“What’d you do before this?” Hank continued.

Casey grimaced then smiled shifting in her seat as she tried to find the words. “I was a journalist, sort of, I tried at the very least.”

“What ended that career?” he asked.

She frowned, “Did neither of you read my file at all?” Her eyes darted between them a few times the silent question of _seriously though_ obvious there.

Connor shrugged and Hank outright told her he hadn’t had the time because Connor had only reminded him that morning. “Wow… um, I guess you still want an answer though?”

Together he and his partner nodded.

“I was researching, for an article about early Android development and the ethics of it all. Ended up coming across something, I shouldn’t have, I’m still not sure what it was exactly. But, the short version is I almost died.”

“What happened exactly?” Hank pushed.

She shook her head, “Car crash. Not sure of the specifics, but the breaks had been cut. I sort of blacked out and woke up about 2 months later. Had a shit ton of physio to go through.”

“I’m surprised they let you into the Academy after all that.”

He scoffed, “It was years ago, I’m as recovered as I’m going to get, plus I had a spotless record. And a family name to surf on.”

Hank nodded understandingly. It did make sense. Connor could help but noticed how she held her left arm; had it been injured during this? Further questions lay there, but he held back letting her continue.

“It wasn’t until the whole Android Revolution that I finally decided on it. Three months of academy training, and then four more getting shipped about the States. Then volunteered to work in Detroit. I’m from here originally, so it’s nice to be home.”

Connor sat taking it all in, cataloguing in his own personal file for her in his head. He wanted to know more; he could tell there were things she was purposefully omitting. It was clear in her body language, the lack of eye contact, the heightened heart rate with every passing second. Then all at once she was calm and collected.

“Speaking of home. It’s getting late. I’m going to head. I’ll you guys tomorrow at the station?” she spoke, motioning for Connor to pass her coat, he did so reflexively not daring to question her.

“It’s barely even 8.30pm!” Hank exclaimed.

“And I live on the other side of town, it’ll be a while before I get home. It was nice talking. See you tomorrow.” She stood slipping her coat on and downed what little remained of her drink. She turned to Connor. “See you, Connor.”

With a small smile and a just as small wave, Casey left them both. Connor watched until the door swung shut behind her, only then did he turn around to face Hank; he was staring right at him with a smug smile.

“You like her.” He stated plainly.

“Of course. Casey is easy to work with. I think she’ll be a great help with the investigation.” Connor refrained from adding the fact that she was always second guessing herself.

“Not what I meant.”

“What _did_ you mean then?” Connor pressed, his mind coming up blank.

“You’ll figure it out. Come on, we should get going too. Early start tomorrow.”

“That’s unlike you.”

“Yeah, you’ll thank me in the long run though. 7am sharp, Connor.”

Hank stood and made his way out leaving Connor there to ponder the meaning behind his words. It was nearly another hour before he himself dragged himself to his own apartment with even more questions than answers floating about his head. His usual method of research wasn’t going to cut it. If he really wanted to know he was going to have to use a more direct method.


	5. Building Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Casey get some alone time. Markus reflects on the last year. Gavin Reed drinks some coffee.

**Central Detroit Police Department**

**October 12th , 7.00am**

Connor arrived into work the next morning at exactly 7am on the dot. It wasn’t that he’d deliberately timed it down to the last second – he definitely didn’t- it’s just the way it happened to work out. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He’d spent the better part of the night compartmentalising the previous day’s event, since sleep wasn’t something he needed. Somehow he’d concluded that he was thinking too hard about it all, that with the limited information he currently had he was simply wasting time. Finding the answers to impossible questions was something he excelled at, he needed to make sure he was being methodical about his process.

It was pretty dull outside, the cloud cover thick and dark, threatening more rain like the night before; puddles spotting the sidewalk and roads as he strolled to the Station. The typical morning traffic was quiet for a change which was really surprising for a Tuesday.

He entered the building, swiping calmly as he’d done the day before and almost every day before that since he first arrived. It was instinct at this point, reflexive, he could close his eyes and walk to where he needed to go, heck he was certain all of sensory processers could be blocked, and he’d still manage to find his way with ease. It had absolutely nothing to the with the inbuilt spacial awareness programs in his basic software that would account his position based of his gait and speed using simplistic mathematical equations to find his way, nothing at all.

His routine after arriving typically consisted of sitting at his desk, reviewing and filing reports and – though he kept it secret- sorting through most of Hank’s work too; the old man tended to let things pile up and Connor just wasn’t about seeing a mess outside of a crime scene. He was stunned – an experience he’d become oddly familiar with in the last 24 hours, he was sure he’d have to get used to it- when he headed towards his desk as normal that Tuesday morning and saw it already occupied. Officer Temple (Casey, he still wasn’t used to calling her that) sat at his desk scrolling through a webpage, his notice board littered with dozen’s more of the pink post-its covered in her own chicken scrawl handwriting. He stopped a few strides short of his desk and just watched as she went to and fro; from the screen to the board, adding or rearranging the post-its, mumbling quietly to herself as she went. He was enchanted by the sight. _If only Hank had this kind of enthusiasm at this hour of the day._

“Morning Connor.”

He startled when Officer Miller, suddenly appeared bidding salutations, sauntering past him steaming mug of coffee in hand. Letting out a yelp, which only earned him a concerned glance from the man who thankfully said no more on the matter, Connor quickly recovered himself. Looking back to his desk to see Casey already mirroring his stare. She smiled at him, before all but leaping from the seat. He couldn’t help but notice the dark rings below her eyes. She strode right up to him, stopping about 3 feet in front of him.

“You feeling okay today?” she asked, timid and clearly unsure if her concern was warranted. It was, at the very least, appreciated.

“Yes. You seem tired?” he quickly replied. He questioned whether he should have been so abrupt when her eyes narrowed, bringing a hand to her face.

“Do I look _that_ tired?” she mumbled, already turning on her heel to return to the desk. “I couldn’t really sleep; my head was buzzing all night. Come see.”

He couldn’t help the eyebrow that raised on his face at hearing this. Without pausing he rushed to her side, pulling the spare chair from the empty desk behind his.

“Continuing off last night’s speculation, I got the idea that the Androids we found, they had to have family, or someone at least who would know about them. Right? So, I spent some time searching the web for Missing Reports from the last year. None in the public domain regarding any androids.”

Connor sat and listened, as if she were telling an epic tale. He was silent, cross referencing the data in his head immediately as she said it. She was right, zero publicly reported cases of Androids going missing. He had already guessed what she was about to finish with. If she was referring specifically to public reports then what did the non-disclosed reports say. He waited for her to continue.

“I figured I’d reached a dead end outside the office. When I got in, I asked IT and Forensics if they had anything they could give me, just a bunch of serial numbers and model types. They’re still working through them. But anyway…” she stopped to take a breath, followed by several gulps of water. Connor took this chance to ask her it was nagging at him incessantly.

“What time did you get here at?”

“Only about an hour ago, like I said, couldn’t sleep.” It was as if she was hyper, her heartbeat telling him as such. Could it just be that she’s excited to be sharing this with someone? Or what it just him in general… he like the way the latter sounded not entirely sure as to why. There many other obvious reasons. She cut of his thoughts as she continued. “Back to this. With the data we do have, I was able to cross reference using the Android Citizen Register and the Missing Persons list.”

She paused again, turning from the monitor to face him, he leaned back a little seeing her face barely an inch from his; he kept forgetting about this thing called personal space, the once thing Deviancy hadn’t helped was his utter hopelessness when it came to be remotely appropriate. The silence lingered on for a while, her excited expression deflating.

She leaned a little closer to him, bring her voice to whisper, “This is where you ask what I discovered?”

Connor blinked a few times, okay… this was a new thing, a new way of talking. He quickly made note before asking her. “So what _did_ you discover?”

Casey perked up, her smiled spreading across her cheeks. “They were all Reported Missing, and not just them, every month for near enough the past year Androids have been going missing.”

“You can’t be certain they were all taken for the same reason as those we found.” He stated plainly, turning his attention to the patchy pink notice board. Her thoughts and ramblings, summaries of what she’d just recounted, her thought process to this conclusion mapped out in fluorescent pink.

“Of course not!” it was as it she was shocked to hear him assume she’d thought otherwise. “I can’t even access the reports, so I don’t even know if they were found or what happened to them. I just know that the ones in that basement were reported missing, about two months ago.”

Connor edged forward closer to the computer, and Casey as if reading him like a fresh book, rolled her own seat out of his way. In front of his desktop, like he normally would’ve been at this time in the morning, he scanned her search history, catalogued her search criteria and logged off, promptly logging into the database with his own ID, it all took less than a second. He was acutely aware of her watching him closely, her green gaze flitting between him and the screen. He pulled up the reports she found and what had been redacted for her was painfully clear to him. Just as quickly he scanned all 200+ Android related Missing Persons reports and noted one thing they all had in common; other than being ongoing cases. The signing Officer, or in this case Detective.

“Detective Gavin Reed.” They both murmured together, before promptly turning to stare at his currently empty desk.

Her excited face dropped again, “Well, can’t say I’m surprised his name is all over these. I mean the guy is… uh…”

“An asshole?” Connor supplied without hesitation.

“I was thinking more like, ‘difficult to work with’?” she seemed bemused by his ease of the use of the expletive, he quietly smirked at how she reacted. “You are right though, I’ve only known him a handful of minutes and I completely agree. But, you really think he’d do something like _this_?”

Connor pondered this. Detective Gavin Reed. One of the less than savoury individuals he’d had the displeasure of working with. He’d made clear his position of Androids.

Reed wasn’t the kind of person to keep his thoughts to himself either, he had reigned it back a lot since the reformation and kept his insults to the more mild versions of simple name calling _._ Typical insults that Connor now made a point to no longer pay heed to. He had to agree with her, even with the spitfire nature, he doubted Reed would go this far just because he hated Androids and held a petty grudge against him. Or would he?

Connor suddenly found himself admitting that, despite working in the same profession, and sharing the many candid moments together, he really didn’t know all that much about the Detective. Would something like aiding in the kidnapping and abuse of his kind really be beyond the man?

“Do you think we should ask him about it? You know, solely as part of the case? Or do we have to wait for approval from above for something like this?” he heard her ask him, he was still staring at the screen, filtering through the remaining files to see anything else that stood out.

“The numbers have increased a lot in last few months.” He said, ignoring her question. His mind was racing, compiling data from their Red Ice case and this apparent new one. “Red Ice over doses increased around the same time.”

“You’re thinking they’re linked too? But how, what good would that do Red Ice?” Casey retorted. She pushed herself back from the desk, spun to face her elaborate post-it note thoughts. “Unless there not linked directly… ugh, I guess more info would really be helpful right now.”

He hummed in agreement, working through the pc, filling in forms and emailing the data to her and Hank’s accounts, before he himself pulled back from the desk and sat staring off into space. To any outsider, it looked like he was doing exactly just that, staring with blank eyes, and his mind a million miles away. He was just trying to figure out what to do now until Hank showed up. They had a few leads to check on, the first being the Androids, but until IT came back with something solid that was a dead end. There was also the possibility of Reed having some information; but approaching him so blatantly after their not so amicable history; it didn’t seem like a good idea.

After a long silence he turned to face her, Casey was still pouring over her notes and had rearranged a few, even added a few too. In the middle of it all written in bold capitals on a pink background was their biggest question; **_LINKED_?**

She rolled the pen between her fingers before letting it drop to the desk as she continued to wash her eyes over it all again and again; letting out little sighs of clear frustration more frequently than he would have deemed necessary. He heard a familiar voice in the background. Turning he saw Hank, talking to Miller, and his next immediate instinct was to check the time. 7.25am. Connor could say he was definitely impressed by his punctuality in this instance; even if he was still late.

Turning back, he wasn’t much of a surprise to him to see Casey hurriedly logging back onto the pc. It never ceased to amaze to him, how she didn’t seem to stop. He imagined that she’d been like this her whole life, busying herself with anything and everything only allowing herself time to think when it was really, critically important.

“Casey,” he began, turning back to her. He was in charge of her, after Hank of course, he’d been told as much. He wasn’t going to sit around and tell her exactly what to do, she seemed far too independent for that. She clearly had ideas and was already working her way through them. He’d let her. If she didn’t succeed it wasn’t going to reflect well on them as a team, so being in responsible for her he had to make sure she had the resources and knew where to get them too. “I’ve got you all the access you’ll need for now. If you need anything else, just ask.”

She smiled, small and grateful, at him, the expression all the thanks he needed despite her saying so too.

Connor stood as Hank approached them, “You’re late.” He said dryly sending a damning glare to the Lieutenant.

Hank glared in kind before a smirk appeared. “Just thought you could use some time with your assistant, you know. You ready to go?”

Connor was somewhat appreciative of the deliberate tardiness. But still, if he was going to show up late he could have said so right? It took him a few seconds to register that Hank was passing him and talking to said assistant; Connor highly doubted she appreciated that term any more than being called a kid.

“Go where?” he said a few beats too late.

Even Casey looked at him as if it should be obvious, making him think that perhaps he’d missed out on something… again.

“I said we were getting your head checked out.” Hank stated.

Oh yeah, he’d forgotten about that.

“Did you forget?” Hank asked, concern in his normally gruff voice. “Sooner the better. Let’s go. You, newbie, stay here.”

Casey looked taken aback, halfway out of her seat she merely, and with no lack of anger, slumped back down into it. The mood she exuded was one of scolded child, the pout on her lips quickly being suppressed as the adult in her finally returned from its momentary vacation. She groaned, barely holding back that roll of her eyes, and he mumbled a dejected ‘ _fine~’_.

“We’ll be back later. I’m sure Connor’s left you something to do. So yeah, you’ll manage. Behave yourself kid.”

Hank was already walking away, dragging Connor by the arm. Connor just let himself be taken by the pull of his Senior. He barely stifled the laugh, hearing Casey shout after them.

“I’m not a kid!”

[*]

**8941 Lafayette Avenue**

**11.35am**

Markus strolled out into the garden, the odd heat from the near midday sun, uncharacteristic for this time for the year, not unpleasant as it warmed him. He wasn’t too long off the phone with someone he’d not heard from in quite a while; someone he’d rather not have heard from under the current circumstances. But still the matter in question was one that was of rising concern to him too, so sooner or later it would need to be addressed. Now was a good a time as any and now they were on their way.

Lieutenant Anderson, the rough around the edges cop who he’d heard played a part in their success. And Connor, an Android whom had tried to kill him once and was ultimately the key to their victory with the aid of the former. In truth he was looking forward to seeing Connor again. Even after joining them, Connor had always been rather rigid and awkward about things. He was eager to see how much he’d changed after embracing his own independence.

A few _young_ looking Androids raced past him, no taller than his waist. They were laughing and chasing one another without a care in the world; you’d never think they were anything more than mere children. He believed it was the way it was supposed to be. No second glances where a person could feel the need to ask the question; Human or Android? It was something that, in time, he wanted no one to worry about. It was would take time of course everything did. He knew that better than most.

Following their success last November, what he’d initially assumed would be some talking followed by the momentary chaos of getting it all in order, became months of long agonising discussions and arguments with both Humans and Androids. He’d only recently been able to claim the remaining manufacturing sites that Cyberlife was adamant on keeping. With this small success came their own kind of medical care; they could get spare parts and keep themselves functioning, the equivalent of the Human’s _healthy_. It also provided them with the opportunity to become more individual, allowing Androids with such desires to literally create a family. It was the one thing they’d desired more than anything (after their initial freedom) and now they had it.

Along with full independence, the right to employment, the ownership of property, the freedom to travel and the right to live, they were making good if not excellent progress. Markus couldn’t help but feel like things were going his way, the right way for once. He knew full well he’d have not been able to do it alone. He was more than thankful for those who’d stood alongside him every step of the way.

He watched as the young ones tumbled into the grass, the drab and fading green of its blades betraying the untimely sunshine. They rolled and only stopped when another stepped up to them, clearly scolding them for being so rough. Obediently they stood and apologized to one another before racing off again, as if it had never happened. Markus watched, as the Android turned, her face lit up with a warming expression. It was an expression that had taken a long time to settling into her otherwise judgemental feature, but he thought it suited her more than any. The beaming curl in her lips, they way it reached into her eyes, how those deep brown eyes glowed. She strolled happily towards him, almost floating for the lightness of her steps; the loose material of her blouse catching in the breeze making her seem more spectral.

“What are you staring at?” North asked, with a snide tone that was all too common to her. Markus couldn’t help but smile in return, closing the space between them and taking her in his arms.

“Only someone incredibly beautiful.” She playfully looked behind her, then back at him with a sarcastic pout. “You know I mean you!”

She scoffed, allowing him to take her hand in his. Letting down the concealing barrier that divided them, their true selves melding together at the contact; experiencing the moment as one. He felt the joy in her swell in his own chest and subconsciously he pulled her even closer, tightening his grip. They embraced on another, like they’d come to do so often these days, ignoring the faux vomiting sound effects from the kids still nearby.

North, always quick to anger, pulled away and snapped at them all but chasing them off with a glare. She sighed, before turning back to him, “The sooner their parents come back the better.” Markus couldn’t stop himself from actively flinching at the mention of it. “What is it? Did you hear something?”

They’d be arriving soon, there’d be no point in hiding it. “Connor and the Lieutenant, they found Androids being kept in confinement just yesterday. Can’t say for sure it they’re any of ours but, there’s a chance.”

North couldn’t ignore the graveness in his tone. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Markus sighed, the need to share this weight greater than the need to keep it under wraps if only to avoid panic. He could trust her, he knew that. When he took too long, she took his hand again, an act of comfort and reassurance. A reminder that she was there, that he wasn’t facing this alone and didn’t have to either. The act of sharing this contact, small and intimate was like being struck by lightning; it awoke his every nerve ending and clamed him at the same time.

“None of them survived.”

“Do they know why?” He simply shook his head and turned away. Her grip on him tensing momentarily before she rushed to spin him on the spot. “Don’t worry about what we can’t control. If they need help they’ll-“

“They’re on their way here.” She froze, retracting her hold on him. “They’re coming to discuss what they know and to ask about our own missing.”

North’s cheery mood all but vanished, she’d never really taken to Connor. Couldn’t find it in herself to forgive him for all the grief he’d caused, even if he was only being used, and had been a great help in the end. Even after he’d saved her life she couldn’t find the will to look at him as anything other than a potential threat. Markus wondered if they’d ever see eye to eye.

“Fine. I’ll deal with the others by myself then.” Immediately she stormed off.

“North!” he gave chase, “North, don’t be like that. You know this is important. North!”

“Markus?”

He stopped halfway across the garden, hearing Connor’s voice. He wasn’t surprised to see him, dressed not dissimilarly from what he’d seem him wearing before; a light grey suit, dress shoes. It was eerily reminiscent of the old Android class uniforms. He couldn’t help but shake his head at that, and then resisted the urge to rush over and punch him when he noticed the L.E.D still present on his temple. Clearly his evolution was a slow going process.

Beside him stood the Lieutenant, looking grim and exhausted despite the early hour. He blinked in their presence as they moved to join him.

“Lieutenant.” He offered his hand to shake but was quickly withdrew seeing the older gent wave at him instead.

“Hank, please.” Hank spoke, glancing at Connor, not so subtly drawing Markus’ attention to the dazed looking android beside them. Immediately he caught the silent worry.

“You’re not here just to ask about the missing persons… are you?”

“Since when have you known us to do anything so simply.” Hank grinned. Markus only just succeeded in holding back the urge to groan and run the opposite direction.

[*]

**Central Detroit Police Department**

**12.15PM**

“Fuck off bot!” Reed bellowed at her, and not for the first time. Casey remained resolute in her stance in front of his desk.

“I only came to gave you coffee. You looked like you could use a pick-me-up. Or maybe a peace offering. We didn’t exactly hit it off yesterday huh?”

She carefully set the mug of coffee down in front if him, relishing the suspect look he gave her and then it. It wasn’t poisoned or drugged, she wasn’t that kind or extreme or petty, especially not on her second day of work or _in_ this particular line of work either.

“What are you up to?” he growled, after he had dared to lift the mug and give it a sniff.

“Like I said peace offering.” She gave him her biggest, and most genuine looking smile as he took a sip.

Reed huffed, setting it down, before seeming to contemplate how to proceed. With a less that pleasant glare he looked up at her. “Not bad for a droid.”

She smirked taking that simple and nonchalant phrase as acceptance, seating herself in front of his desk, propping her elbows on it like a giddy school girl. “Why are you so convinced I’m an Android?”

It was an innocently put question, and she really wanted to know. It had been the deal breaker that had brought her to the coffee machine and then to him. The idea had been in her head since Connor and her discovery that morning. For hours she had debated with herself whether or not to press him for answers regarding the missing persons, then argued that he’d only be more aggressive if she just waltzed over and didn’t try to bridge the gaping whole in their relationship; that was the non-existence of it. The first step to it was creating a level ground for them to meet and talk on. His desk felt like the perfect place, given his self-righteous, inflated ego.

He took another sip of the coffee, this time seeming to allow himself to enjoy the taste a little more, if the small groan was anything to go by. _Not bad indeed._ His glare softened, only marginally, as he looked to her again. Like he was trying to solve an indecipherable puzzle, he stared at her before his glare set hard again.

“How’d you know I’d take it black?”

“Huh?”

“The coffee.”

“Oh. Right. Uh…” she knew exactly why, but saying it out loud would likely make it worse, or would it? She wasn’t sure where she could draw the line with humour. He had a short fuse, was quick to snap when he felt wronged, seemed to think he was always right, and… she supposed there and then, saying it could only go one of two ways. Good or bad. If it went bad, she was sure the rest of her team would be able to get the answers she’d failed to get. Not that she had been ordered to get them. “Well, I figured you’d like it the same way as yourself.”

He raised a brow at her, silently questioning.

“You know, dark and bitter.” She couldn’t help the smirk on her lips. His eyes narrows tenfold and he all but threw daggers at her. She held her ground, not even flinching as he less than gently slammed the cup on the table. Then, to her shock, he started making a strange strangled noise.

 _Hold up, is he laughing?_ He finally let out a clear chuckle answering her confusion. _Oh. He is laughing. That’s… good?_

“Wow. So maybe you’re not a droid. Somehow I don’t think they’d ever say something like that during peace talks. Ha. But, you are _definitely_ weird. Standing up for that idiot, and on your first day. You’ve got guts.”

Heat rose in her cheeks, “Uh, thanks?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Now buzz off. Some of us are busy.”

Well, it was progress, but she wasn’t going to stop there. Trying to make it seem as natural as possible she eased herself a little closer to him. “Since I’m clearly not busy, you could totally let me shadow you for a bit. I could do with some… expert direction. You know.”

He frowned even more, shaking his head, in contradiction to his words. “Fine, but you say another word, and I won’t hesitate to let you wear the rest of this coffee.”

The feeling of triumph filled her as he took yet another swig of the hot drink; she doubted there’d be much left for her to wear even if she did slip up but for now she’d settle with easing her way in, at least until Connor and Hank got back, but who knows how long that was going to be. Confidently she moved the chair to his side, ignoring the dumbstruck look on his face as she edged closer and prepared herself. She met his gaze, an undaunted look on her face at the attempted threat in his stare.

“What? I thought you were busy, and yet you have time to stare at me… you must like what you see.” She stated with a wink.

Reed scoffed, turning back to the desktop, shaking is head again, “You are unbelievable.”

“You better believe it.” She said with yet another wink, laughing as he tried to carry on with his work.

 _Phase 1 infiltrate enemy territory; complete._ She thought with a silent giggle to herself as she watched him work. _Phase 2 gain his trust; start._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are beginning to speed up, it's probably not obvious but the next chapter is when things really start picking up for everyone. Also, tell me what you guys think of the Casey/Gavin interaction, I feel like they'd get along really well once they get over the disaster from her first day. 
> 
> Next chapter coming soon, because now I know exactly what needs to happen and the more I write the more confident I get with the characters. Any comments would be greatly appreciated, I feed of the energy they provide ^_^.


	6. Diagnosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor sees a 'specialist' and finds out what's wrong with him. He also gets a prescription to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this one was hard to write. I'm still not enitrely happy with how it turned out. I may come back as add a few things, but it'll mostly just to help with the flow. 
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy this update. The next one will be this Sunday since this one was a week late.

**Somewhere Near Acre Av., Detroit,**

**10.45am**

If Connor had known he was going to spend the better part of his morning sitting in a repurposed Cyberlife factory just for the Specialist Technician working there to tell him what he already knew, he would’ve tried all that harder to stop Hank from bringing him.

He was still hooked up to the monitor that was taking readings, flagging the irregularities in his programming which persisted in showing to be as none. He could have told them that without all the hassle and time wasting it took to get him here. Every systems check he’d done (and he’d down well over a hundred at this point) told him the same thing; there was absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary was apparent anywhere not matter how he went about it. All systems were green as Hank would say. But these fruitless inquiries had him, Hank and everyone else in his social group (not many) wondering what was going on with him.

No one was more eager to find the answer than Connor himself.

Forgetting things and zoning out, black outs as Hank had called them on the drive there as he woke him from one. Those where the visisable sypmtoms. It was… unnerving, to say the least. Not least because he’d never experienced it before but because no one, not even the specialist Androids and Human Technicians, could tell him what was happening.

They’d left with no more answers (but thankfully no more questions) than they’d set out with. Now, driving to who knows where, Connor could do nothing but stare blankly out the window; the usual thrill he associated with sitting in the passenger seat numbed by the intangible dread he thought he should be feeling, but wasn't. He felt entirely numb.

“Connor? Hey.” Hank called. Connor assumed he’d had another ‘black out’ because now they were parked outside Hank’s favourite street vendor, _‘Chicken Feed’_. He looked to the old detective and gave a tentative smile. Hank could only return it with a half-hearted grimace. “Well figure this out. I mean, when do we ever not solve something? Right?!”

Connor tried to appreciate the encouraging tone, he really, _really_ tried. But he couldn’t, not when his detail addled brain was supplying him with numerous examples of times when they’d _failed_ to solve a case. If the number of open case files on Hanks desk back alone didn’t suggest it happened more often than not, then Connor’s own digital record definitely did. His mouth opened to protest, but closed it as Hank seemed sensed what was coming.

“That case with the Homicidal Toasters doesn’t count.” Connor remembers that one too, not what he was going to use that one as an example; he'd been thinking about the one where 36 seemingly unconnected people had all displayed symptoms of Red Ice addition but, in fact, had never been near the stuff. The muderous toaster related spree, Hank was refering to, was just as bewildering but yes it was an example all the same, regardless of however Hank argued.

“Uh huh.” He simple mumbles, letting his head fall hard against the headrest, as his mind goes empty one more.

“What no witty rebuttal this time?”

Connor just glanced over at him, his face expressing of the extreme levels of just how indifferent he was feeling to everything in that moment. Hank just nodded, silently understanding this, before opening the door.

“I’ll be back in a few. Just take a break, you know, switch off or something. Yeah?” He was gone before he got a chance to answer.

Connor just sat there, unable to let himself relax. Watched as Hank ordered and then pulled out his phone, beginning what turned into a long exchange. He just sat watching, not even bothering to run the lip reading software like he normally would; he just felt so exhausted, nothing was going right and if he was going to be honest, he’d admit that he was even a little scared. The answers he'd normally have within grasp right about now where so far out of reach it made him feel sick. The car door suddenly opening startled him, caused him to literally jump in response. The vehicle noticeably shook as Hank dropped his weight in the drivers seat, and just as quickly slammed the door shut.

Whatever Hank had ordered was long gone, Connor had to wonder if maybe he’d spaced out yet again; he thought the better of mentioning it, Hank already had enough to worry about.

“Right, one more stop and then back to the Station. Hopefully shouldn’t take too long.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

[*]

**8941 Lafayette Avenue**

**12.10pm**

Connor sat in the massive open expanse of the what he assumed was the equivalent of sitting room, in the large home that had belonged to the late Carl Manfred. The walls were lined the books, and those with no place sat stack in towers on the floor. Massive windows letting the light of midday stream into the room giving it an ethereal glow. The grand piano in one corner, sported a considerable top layer of dust, the cover closed over the key; it hadn't been used in a long while by the looks of it. He was strangely enough not feeling as stressed as he had when he first arrived, not least of all because he was finally engaged in a somewhat distracting conversation with a young Android. They were debating about why he still wore his LED. He felt looser than he had in days, there was just something about the place that radiated calm. He was glad they'd come here.

Maybe it was because it had be converted into a sanctuary, a safe haven for Androids and Humans; no one was judged here, not for anything. Least of all what they were underneath the surface. The debate he was currently having was a healthy one, the child understanding his reasoning but still offering argument in response. Connor had never actually spoken it aloud, the true reason why he hadn’t removed the LED, but it was simple. Despite breaking free of his core programming and being physically free to choose, he didn’t feel free, not in the slightest. The recent events only stood to reinforce that idea; he had no clue was going on inside his own head, he didn’t know what to do.

At least he a blueprint for most other situations he found himself in. Anything that didn’t concern himself as the centrepiece was easy to figure out, easy to solve. He wondered if this was something everyone felt, even thought about asking his companion as much but didn't get a chance when the child ran off; chasing after a group of other kids as they ran through the hall.

“Connor?”

He turned to face Markus who was smiling down at him. He moved to get up but Markus waved him off, sitting himself on the couch beside him. All at once the soothing air of calm dissipated, and a chest straining unease began to build in him. He couldn't stop himself from swallowing.

“Hank’s told me you’ve been acting odd lately. Blacking out and forgetting things.”

It frightened him, with just how forthcoming he was with the details, explaining with perhaps too much precision the events of the last few days. He wasn’t going to mention the vision, dream, projection, whatever it was he’d seen, but he thought if anyone was going to understand it would be Markus.

Markus just listened, remaining as attentive as he could as Connor recounted it all. He didn’t interrupt or look like he was having his time wasted. Connor knew this was one of the reasons why he was such a good leader; impartial until the end, until he'd heard every side and possibility. Connor guessed he'd make a good Detective that way too.

When he finished his tale silence fell between the two of them. It wasn’t as heavy or daunting at he’d expected it to be, it was almost comfortable, and then when Markus did speak he felt at ease again.

“Connor…” a long pause followed, Connor could hear his own thirium pump pounding like a steady drum, not slowing or getting faster; it was like the few seconds it marked out went on for ever. “When was the last time you took a break?”

Connor had to blink at that, he didn’t truly understand where it had come from. “Why?”

Markus smiled; gently and sympathetically. “You’ve never taken a break, have you?”

“There’s always work to do…” he answered sheepishly, feeling like he was being scolded for some reason. Markus just keep smiling, shaking his head as if he expected nothing else from him.

“I think, maybe, given the fact you never let yourself have a break, that you’re probably just stressed out.”

“Stressed out?”

“Yes Connor. Stressed out. It happens to people when they keep going non-stop for a length of time. It can cause all kinds of problems. You could even burn yourself out if it goes on too long. I bet you been feeling pain in your chest, that your heart beats rapidly for apparently no reason too. Hanks says you’ve been forgetting things too.” Connor can only nod, no point in lying when it’s the truth, and when it came from a different source. “Do you sleep at all?”

Connor raises a brow, like the answer should be obvious. “Androids don’t require sleep.”

“No we don’t, but it might help you if you stop every now and then.”

Connor let his mind wander, feeling clarity like he hadn’t felt in weeks. Was is really just as simple and stopping for a few hours? Could just taking a break literally be the answer to all his problems? He didn’t want to doubt it but he wasn’t the type to accept everything at face value, not when there was still evidence going unanswered.

“What about what I saw? I saw the Zen Garden, the HUB, I thought it was gone forever when Cyberlife production went offline.”

Markus contemplates this for a moment, a very brief moment, before answering just as confidently as he been talking the whole time. “ It's probably because the Anniversary is coming up. It’s next month, it could be stirring up old memories. Problematic ones.”

“And all this _stress,_ you think it’s causing… whatever it is going on in my head. That taking a rest will fix it?”

“It couldn’t hurt to try, Connor.”

And just like that Connor felt -surprisingly- so much better. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and suddenly felt all the lighter for it. But his mind was quick to remind him of the 101 things he had to do, of the critical point their Red Ice case was at; if they got anything back from those Androids, anything else from the Forensics at the scene, anything that he had missed. Could he really let himsefl take a break at a time like this? Markus seemed to sense his thinking.

“Connor, you’re more than just machine. You told me as much nearly a year ago. If you don’t look after yourself, you won’t be fit to look after anyone else.”

With another pleasant smile Markus stood up and stretched, calling after the same kids from earlier who just bolted in again, sending a few towers of books flying. He scolded them, almost playfully before helping them tidy their mess. Connor caught himself staring and quickly summarised it all in his head. He was just stressed out, overworked to the point that he was zoning out, forgetting important things and seeing ghosts when he closed his eyes. He was finding it hard to believe something as simple as rest could be the answer.

He himself stood moments later straightening out his shirt and jacket before heading outside. It was raining again, nothing like the torrents that fell the day before; just a light drizzle, barely enough to dampen his hair. The breeze was refreshing, now that he had something to try. Across the yard standing in the rain like it really was nothing, was Hank, talking away to North. The second she spied him coming she must have made some excuse and quickly made herself scarce. Connor tried not to let it get to him, he still didn’t know what he’d done to make her act this way. It seemed today wasn’t the day he’d find out either.

As she all but sprinted away, Hank stood, arms crossed ,as he too was peeved at her pettiness. He nodded in greeting when Connor finally reached him, patting him firmly on the back; if he’d had lungs Connor was certain the wind would have been knocked from them.

“So, what did the _Doctor_ order?” Hank asked, his eyes looking hopeful and younger for it.

“Markus says I should… take a break…”

Hank laughs, actually laughs, loud and deep, before clearing his throat. Connor already knows what he’s thinking and sure enough the words he’s imagining would leave Hank’s lips do.

“He knew who he was talking to right? You _never_ takes breaks.” Connor rolled his eyes, he’d even said it the way he’d imagined too. “But I think he’s right, you do need a break. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. You’ve worked with me nearly a whole year and haven’t taken a single day off. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed you clocking in on weekends too!”

He had to wonder why, if Hank had noticed, he hadn’t said anything sooner. He supposed it was out of politeness, or decency. Connor had made it clear how much he liked to busy himself with literally anything, (mostly just work) so he put it down to Hank respecting that. He pondered this as they walked to the car, a distant wave the only parting salute exchanged with Markus before they were on the road heading back to the station.

"I’m going to write you up a paid leave slip when we get back. You are not going to argue with how long I give you. I’ll keep you updated on the current cases but only if its something earth shattering. Got it?”

Connor nods, honestly feeling like he was worrying over nothing. A little time off, that's all it was, he could _definitely_ deal with it.


	7. Big Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has a little trouble adapting to not working and things only seem to be getting worse.

**_Connor’s Apartment_ **

**_October 13 th 12.01am_ **

****

It had been a total of five hours since his work day ended; two since he’d finally arrived home. Connor had almost eagerly set off after parting ways with Hank the old lieutenant having dragged him off for more midweek drinks; Connor was sure to make sure none of them were alcoholic this time around. It was the Lieutenant’s way of wishing him luck, that and making sure the long list of don’ts was thoroughly drilled into his memory bank. Connor was fine with not being allowed to call for work purposes, with not showing up to work and to not concern himself with anything case related unless specifically called upon. His main concern at the end of the day was Casey. Hank had put him in charge of her, he wasn’t about to leave her high and dry without instruction. He’d wanted to say farewell to Casey too but she was nowhere to be found when they returned to the station. Hank assured him he could take care of her, especially since she was less of a handful than he was.

Once Hank had drank his fill, he left Connor with mostly warnings of the consequences of what would happen should he return to work too. Not long after he too reluctantly he left, but with a determined skip in his stride all the same, intently hopeful this was going to work out and he’d feel better for it.

Connor had wanted, terribly so, to argue about the week and a half long break Hank decided for him, but the lingering promise he made on the drive back to the station forced him to stay quiet. He was going to listen and just accept it for what it was, he wasn’t going to question the shared opinions of the few important figures in his life. He’d walked home from the bar dreaming of the outcome, trying not to think too hard about the many ways it could all go wrong; how and the end of this he’d still be blacking out and forgetting things. He’d unlocked his apartment door, literally willing all the speculation and information about the recent cases into non-existence at least temporarily; was the hardest part of it.

It had now been 2 hours and a handful of minutes since he’d closed the door on his apartment. It was a modest space, with an open plan kitchenette, dining and living area. Two small bedrooms, the second intended for guests and neither of them ever used. Most of the shelves were bare, the walls unadorned; it would be easy to mistake the place as uninhabited. The only piece of décor in the entire place was a single framed photo of himself and Hank Connor from the first New Year’s party he went to. The only other indication this place was lived in, was the dip in the cushion of the sofa where he was currently sat and a small pile of physical books on a dusty shelf.

Connor glanced to the clock by the TV (that he never used) to register the time; 12.17am. Two hours 17 minutes since he’d got home, since he’d start ‘taking a break’, he already felt like was going out of his mind with boredom. What was he going to do with himself for the next ten days if he was already struggling at the two hour mark?!

He’d spent the first hour doing a deep system scrub, defragging his databank to speed up processing times (something he decided on doing more often after seeing the results), the second he’d spent thoroughly compressing and archive any irrelevant data he’d picked up over the last year (there was a lot of it). Which led to his current predicament. What did people do? His mind firstly supplied the option of sleeping, it was night, and he supposed that nearly everyone else would be doing as such at this hour. But he didn’t need that kind of sleep, not ever. Cyberlife batteries were tested and said to last up to 1000 years in good condition. All the same, he closed his eyes and let his mind go blank.

He’d let himself try.

When he opened them he expected it to be brighter outside, for hours to have passed; that’s how it always seemed to work in those dramas and movies that Hank would make him watch with him. Hours would pass in mere seconds for them, so when he saw that it hadn’t even be a minute he wracked his mind for some other suggestion, something more practical. It was well in the small hours of the morning when he’d finally come up with something.

How he was going to manage a week and a half like this he had no idea

***

**_CDPD Station_ **

**_October 19 th, 5.35pm_ **

****

Casey scrolled and cross referenced the information in the file that Reed had given her that morning. It had been easier than she’d anticipated, gaining his trust and if was going to be entirely honest he wasn’t even that much of an asshole; once you got to know him. By no stretch of the imagination was she convinced that what she knew now was all there was to him, no there was plenty more she didn’t know and plenty of time to find it out too.

The week had dragged in and being relegated to desk duties for the last few days wasn’t helping. Nor was the lack of fresh leads for the case she’d been working with Connor and Hank. It had all come to a grinding halt when the data they got back from the analysis of the defunct Androids came back with nothing enlightening, not even a remnant of ‘Blue Ice’ code, or a dying GPS signal. Nothing. If anything, they’d seemed completely healthy up until their last moments and then, somehow, everything was wiped.

The file she was perusing had all the information of the recent missing cases, Human and Android, courtesy of Detective Gavin Reed. Slipping the topic into the conversation had been easy enough when another report came in and Reed had begrudgingly set about doing the necessary paperwork. Seeing the mile long list on his pc she’d suggested he let her review them, update any information and cross reference with her own case notes regarding Red Ice.

Reed’s sceptical glare at her suggestion was short lived and he seemed more than happy to load off the work to her; he’d only have to do it sooner or later himself if he refused. It was a win/win situation for them both.

The file also included summation of all the data from the data drop Hank had received on her first day; which was even less once she and the Lieutenant had verified the remaining locations in person (warrants in hand) finding nothing out of the ordinary. Even with all that information, her findings had been nothing ground breaking, only that she was able to confirm that the Androids they found were definitely all reported missing and the reports filed by Reed himself. Nothing they didn’t already know. Beyond that the Officer in charge of proceeding with the investigations had such illegible hand writing that she couldn’t decipher their name. Any progress she could have made ended with that. She spent the better part of her afternoon trying to figure it out; even resorted to asking Reed and anyone else. No one had been able to read it; Miller had even suggested whoever it was might not even work there anymore with the current state of staff turnover.

_Brilliant_ , she thought, _just_ _brilliant_.

Chewing at her bottom lip she let out an agitated sigh, burying her head in her hands and resisting the urge to curse out loud. Hank had left early, something about his dog, Sumo. Once he left it was all work and no play, with Reed disposed with his own work and Connor to absent until the next week at least (for reasons still unknown to her) getting her head down and willing the hours away was all she could do.

“Hey, Rookie!” she turned hearing Reed’s voice draw near, he was scowling at her; a look she’d come to learn meant very little in the way of intimidation unless he was shouting in someone’s face. “You going home tonight or not?!”

She couldn’t help but frown at him, it wasn’t even six yet, only she was more than surprised to see that six o’clock had come and went nearly an hour ago. Casey had wonder what exactly she’d been doing the last hour and a half when she had literally no work to show for it.

“Um, yeah? Yeah! In a bit, just going to tidy up…” she answered fumbling with notes and files and everything else that had migrated to Connor’s desk in the time she’d spent there. In her hurry she knocked the old Walkman off the edge, the clattering of it hitting the ground and the hissing of loose pieces skirting across the floor like nails on a chalkboard to her. That was Connor’s, his incredibly vintage Walkman, that thing was probably older than her! “Shit…”

Hearing a deep and husky chuckle from behind her, Casey almost didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning back to him, but the subconscious need to not seem as startled won over. Faced with his almost pained grin, as if on some level he was sympathetic to her plight, she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes to heaven and back.

“ _Shit_ is one way to put it! Our resident Tinman might just get mad for once!” he scoffs, not even moving an inch to help her retrieve the scattered parts. Casey pauses, all the parts in hand, and stands to face him once more, her own smug grin plastered on her face.

“That almost sounded like you care, Reed!”

His smile instantly drops from his face, the scowl returning stronger than before, his eyes narrowing on her like she was the target. As with every time she’d faced this side of him Casey held her ground returning the glare in kind so he knew she wasn’t going to back down; it wasn’t like she meant it to be insulting, he did that all by himself.

He breaks the hold on her gaze to glance at his watch, the tension diffusing along with his grimace. His deep brown eyes glance back up to her, before he smirks again and all at once it’s like nothing ever happened.

“Whatever. It’s late and I’m a busy guy. So, do whatever!” he snaps turning to leave, he’s marched halfway to the exit when she decides to speak.

“Great sentence that was! I totally believe you!” he flips her the bird without looking back before disappearing from her sight completely. She let out a heavy breath, the tension leaving her shoulders.

She’s not sure how long she stands there just staring and thinking, looking at the pieces of Walkman in her hand; the damage doesn’t look irreparable but she’s no expert, for all she knew she’s busted some miniscule part that hadn’t been in circulation for decades! Frowning she sets it on the table and continues putting away the papers and files before heading to her locker. Coming back in her regular clothes, she loathed to see the pieces of the music device still sitting there as if to silently mock her for her clumsiness. Lifting them she doesn’t even try to dull the impulse when she pulls out her phone and dials. It nearly rings out before the gruff voice she’s expecting answers.

“What?!” Hank groans.

“Hello to you too. Don’t worry I won’t keep you long.” She said, making sure the smile on her face reaches her words. He grumbles something unintelligible over the line and her smile only widens.

“Shoot.”

There’s a nervous flutter in her heart that she doesn’t understand before she speaks, asking the one thing that had been on her mind since that morning.

***

****

**_Connor’s Apartment_ **

**_October 19 th, 8.36pm_ **

****

It’s been nearly an entire week. Connor slumps into the couch for what must be the millionth time that day, the seat sunken under his weight from the time spent there over the days, but for all that time the apartment still looked untouched.

He’d resorted to the most mundane of tasks after exhausting his list very quickly that first morning. He started with alphabetising the small collection of novels Hank had given him. It hadn’t taken very long. After that he’d resorted to cleaning the bathroom from floor to ceiling; it, being a room he really doesn’t have any use for, always quickly gathered dust despite the fact he never even opened the door. It too hadn’t taken very long. Naturally cleaning one room had led to him giving the entire flat a once over, which he painfully forced himself to do much, much slower and so thoroughly he was even checking surfaces with his sampling software for any trace of bacteria after the fact. That once over became a daily ritual.

After all that it had barely taken him up to noon. The rest of the days taken up with him trying his best to avoid the news and anything that would remind him of work. He’d considered going out, taking a walk, getting some fresh air, even considered visiting Markus, but it all halted when the possibility of encountering crime entered his mind. It wasn’t something he could just ignore, and it would probably seem as if he’d went looking for the trouble.

All in all, the past week had been more stressful than the entire last year had been. Thankfully, or at least as far as he was aware, he’d hadn’t had any blackouts, nor had he felt any concerning new sensations. The slightest potential that this was helping him kept him sane; barely.

He sighed, resting on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, happening to notice a stray cobweb drifting lazily in a ghostly breeze, he must have missed it every time he’d dusted that corner if it was still there are repeated deep cleans. Connor stood, reached and easily brushed it way. He was about to settle back into the couch when the doorbell rang.

Connor’s first thought was, who, and it was quickly followed by why. It all the months he’d _lived_ here the only person to visit was Hank, but he’s said he’d said he’d only bother him on the weekends, something about an adjustment period. Connor just thought it was a way for the old man to test how long he would last on his own.

He strolled towards the door as the bell sounded again, the sing song tune echoing through his apartment. Until he mechanically unlocked and pulled open the door. With no regard for his own safety he unhooked the chain too.

“Connor!” Casey cheered happily through the crack in the door. Her cheeks were flushed deep red, her nose red to match; it must be cold out. Althogugh she looked like she'd just ran marathon, she also looked more relieved than anything. Before Connor got a chase to speak himself, she was already talking again. “742, 742 Hank told me it was 732 and then when an old lady answered the door I got very confused, then I thought maybe you lived with someone; but she had no clue who I was talking about. Then I started second guessing myself and maybe he’d said 724, or even 427, or some other number altogether, and I was up and down the place like crazy trying to find your place!”

She stops for a breath, he can see she’s trembling with what he assumes are nerves, or perhaps just from the adrenaline of the manhunt she’d just conducted looking for him. He takes the brief chance to ask his own question.

“Why were you trying to find me?” she could have just called him if it was that urgent, he couldn’t help but hope it was case related, or maybe she’s been drinking and this was spur the moment. He quickly analyses the air around her, there’s the linger particles of recently used aerosol and perfume but nothing more; not drunk then. It’s only after this fact that he then recalls her dislike of alcohol all but cursing himself for not remembering sooner.

“Oh, yeah. Um, don’t freak out!” he immediately felts like he should start freaking out, not that he really knew how that would even look, to her it wouldn’t have looked much different from his current look of curiosity he assumed. Casey offers him a small plastic bag and he quickly dives into, not sure what to expect, and pulls out his Walkman; another item Hank had gifted him. It was shoddily put together marked with a few scrapes he knew for a fact weren’t there before. He felt momentary concern flood his system before it calmed as he assessed the damage. He’s not sure what face he makes but it’s clearly enough to provoke an explanation from the young Officer. “I sort of knocked it off the table- accidentally! I tried to put it back together on the taxi ride over but I’m no expert. I’m so, so sorry! It looked sentimental, old stuff like that usually is, right? I just knew I wouldn’t sleep right if I left it sitting around until you got back… so, um, here I am.”

Casey laughs nervously, gripping the back of her neck while she looks between him and the afflicted device. He tilts his head in bemusement just as she slows to a stop, shrinking sheepishly before him. Despite her urgency, it was the most reserved he’d seen her face to face. The energy she was usually bursting with replaced by a sudden nervous tension, he quickly made moves to sway it.

“It’s fine. It’s happened before. I can fix it easily so don’t worry about it.” He offers her a smile, that she meekly returns.

Playing with the hem of her shirt she seems to shrink some more, “I’m still sorry about it…”

He fails to suppress a chuckle as it leaves him, louder than he anticipated too. Casey’s regretful look quickly shifts to one of confusion, an eyebrow shooting towards her hairline, the faintest indication of a smile on her lips.

“Come in.” he says abruptly, darting back inside before she can question him on it. When he hears the door click shut he turns to check if she followed; he’s more than happy to see she did.

A tight feeling of elation enters his chest as she follows, looking around the small abode and taking it all in. He knows it’s irrational being concerned about what she thinks but for some reason he can’t stop himself. They come to stand still, a few feet apart in the middle of the lounge area not bothering to sit.

“So…” she drawls, still looking about the place. If Connor didn’t know any better he say she was looking for something, or in his case anything. The mildly unimpressed look she gives him is a testament to that. “What exactly do you do for fun around here?”

He picks no spot in particular and stares intently at it just trying to think of something that sounded remotely exciting; the list of things he’d done in the last twenty-four hours was less than exemplary, the days before that even less so. He was consciously aware of the dragging silence and searched his mind twice as hard.

“You _do_ know how to have fun right?” her voice was coming from behind him now, had he been thinking so hard he’d not noticed her moving around again? He faced her, just as her fingers finished brushing over the spines of the alphabetized novels dust-free on the shelf. “Or do you consider cleaning fun? Like is it a compulsive hobby for you?” she pauses before adding, “This place is spotless…”

“Cleaning? A hobby?” he’s not sure why he makes it a question, it was obvious enough why she would think as much. As if to add insult to injury, Casey gestures to the organized pile of cleaning products he hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet and he nodded in understanding.

“No, not a hobby.” He said.

She hummed in her own way of understanding (clearly not convinced), finishing her circuit of the room and coming to stop near the door. There that look in her eyes again, that look of uncertainty, like she was she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should say it or not. As quick as it appeared it was gone, a cunning smirk appearing on her face.

“Do you fancy taking a walk?”

***

**_Downtown Detroit;_ **

**_October 19 th, 9.15pm_ **

****

It was cold out, and even thought it was late the town was still buzzing with life. The warm glow of the lights making it seem like Thanksgiving was already there and not a little over a month away. Despite not really needing to Casey made sure Connor was wrapped up well. She would never claim to be an expert on Androids but she knew enough to they were just like people in a lot more ways that was obvious, namely that the cold could make them slow don’t or not work as well. Although she wasn’t sure how well that would apply to as advanced a model as Connor was. The Android beside her looked almost lost among the abundant material of the black hat, scarf and oversized puffer jacket she’d forced on him; he couldn’t really complain though, it was all he had in his wardrobe expect for a few more shirts and trousers. Ever the minimalist. She wouldn’t deny it was also somewhat pleasant seeing him out of the usual suit and tie getup he wore daily to work.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” he asks, as they just keep walking.

“Nope.”

“What are we doing then?”

“Taking a walk.”

“Why?”

“Just because. Have you never just went for a walk before?”

“Of course. A lot more recently.”

“So where would you walk then?” Casey asks, consciously slowing her pace as Connor slows his own.

There’s a long silence, the beat of their shoes hitting the footpath. Casey assumes he’s just not going to answer when suddenly he stops walking. She carries on once again working on the assumption he’s just thinking really hard. After walking a good distance from him, noticing he still hadn’t moved to catch up, she stops. Casey looks back, forcing her concern down; he was just thinking too hard.

“Connor?”

Looking back he was just standing there, staring blankly ahead of himself. She huffs out a strained breathy laugh and strolls back towards him at a leisurely pace; hands buried in her coat pockets.

“Connor, if you don’t know where then you don’t have to worry. There’s plenty of time to just takes random walks in the future. Right? ”

He continued to stare blankly. It was starting to scare her a little. At an arm’s length she stopped in front of him and then she noticed, it wasn’t just him. Couples and other strangers spotted about the place had just stopped; presumably the one thing they all had in common was that they were Androids. Just like that her heart was racing for another reason altogether, without thinking she was grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. It hadn’t worked last time but what else could she do.

“Connor!” her mind went blank working overtime to just think of something. She was considering calling Hank, anyone, when suddenly he was falling into her arms.

Stumbling under his weight, she fell to her knees ignoring the sting when she hit the ground. He was panting, almost as if he’d been struggling against something. Casey held him as he heaved, taking only brief moment to see the others that had stalled had also collapsed and were struggling to understand what had just happened to them. She turned her attention back to Connor hearing him speak.

“What did you say?”

“I know where it came from… Call Hank.”

Pulling her phone out she quickly pulled dial Hank’s number and listened to it ring. Connor was already clambering out of her grip and to his feet, sprinting headlong down the street. Casey cursed as she started after him, holding her phone tight to her ear.

“Where?” she managed to ask, just as Hank picked up, his grumpy salutation of ‘ _this_ _better_ _be_ _important’_ barely registered as Connor shouted, not slowing and still gasping but managing to support his own weight now.

“Cyberlife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life happens and last sunday turned into today in no time at all. Next chapter is already drafted so will defintiely be uploaded next sunday as per the upload schedule! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this installment. Any comments would be greatly appreciated!


	8. Chasing Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank rushes to find his idiot partner. And Casey can't help but feel useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than usual, but at least it's on time. Hope this is satisfactory! As always please enjoy! Next one in two weeks, or earlier if I think it's ready.
> 
> Follow me on twitter if you like; https://twitter.com/jojo_rambles

**_Downtown Detroit;_ **

**_October 19 th, 9.50pm_ **

Hank hadn’t expected the call from Casey earlier that evening and he’d explicitly told her not to contact him again unless it was strictly life or death. Needless to say that last thing he anticipated was a call from her a few hours later claiming it was potentially very much life or death. He’d been at home at the time, looking after Sumo who had been inconsolable after his visit to the vets earlier that day; the old Saint Bernard never developed a fondness for the vets, he’d moaned and whined all afternoon, and Hank had done his absolute best to make sure he was happy once they got home. He was getting on in year, but with a few left in him, Hank was set of making his friend as happy as possible. Sat down with the tv on some mindless chat show he wasn’t paying attention to, Sumo snoring loudly, curled by his feet he was ready to pass out when his phone rang for the second time.

He cursed his luck as he drove the empty streets, it was unbelievably late, those few that out where those with nowhere to go or those who were likely up to no good. He was neither, but with what Casey had breathlessly yelled down the phone at him made him think he might have to punch something or someone. Probably Connor when he reached them, the kid needed some sense knocked into him. Casey had been running, and he knew her well enough now to know that she’d been scared, regardless of what she’d claimed before abruptly hanging up.

A week spent with her fretting over the tiniest details of a case, seeing her stress herself out not being able to figure things out, even doing extra work that weed that was Gavin Reed; he learned a lot, came to recognise how she was feeling from the smallest motion. As much as she tried to put on a brave face she was more expressive that she’d ever care to admit. For all her worrying she was, more often than not, right with her conclusions. He couldn’t help but wonder if she believed Connor now or if it was just the urgency of the moment that resulted in the unsavoury name passing her lips.

_Cyberlife._

She hadn’t been able to elaborate on that, only that for some reason Connor was now hellbent on getting there. _There_ , they both had assumed, was the Cyberlife Headquarters. The massive island tower had been shut down and stood currently only as a monument to what had been the pinnacle of Android Engineering and commercialism for nearly two decades. Now it was a bordered off husk, an empty building scheduled for demolition; they were taking their time getting around to it. If Connor was right, then someone had set up home in the tower, or were using it a relay. Hank couldn’t help but hope it wasn’t anything serious, the last thing they needed was another case on top the dozen they already had. He was really hoping that it was just blown out of proportion; that Connor was wrong and that whatever had happened was all in his head. As bad as it sounded for Connor, Hank was really, really hoping it was the case. Helping him would be easier than figuring out a Cyberlife conspiracy.

He turned at an empty intersection towards busier streets, and saw people standing still, unmoving and gazing into space. Partners with them all but yelling to gain their attention and failing. Some were even frozen together, still holding hands and few stuck mid stride. He could only guess this is what had happened before, but if that was the case…

Hank hit the gas, speeding up suddenly in a rush to get to Cyberlife Tower all the faster. Casey was a good kid, even if she didn’t like to be called one. She’d warmed up to his teasing slowly over the last week, and of all the things he would say about her confidently, it was that she really worried about Connor; someone she hardly knew at all. _He’s as much my partner as he is yours! That’s all it is!_ She’d argued when he questioned her about it. They way she’d treated Connor’s desk, it was almost as if she was treading on holy ground. She cared, almost too much. She’d watched him blackout the very first time, had been alone for it too. She’d seen and panicked over the phone at him, clearly concerned for him. And now she was undoubtedly chasing the idiot down the streets of Detroit as he raced to the supposed origin of the signal trying to mess with him, and assumingly every other Android in the city.

He couldn’t help but grit his teeth harder as he sped down the empty roads. All he had to do now was find them, preferably before they reached the Tower. He only hoped he wasn’t going to arrive too late.

***

****

**_Near Belle-Isle, Detroit;_ **

**_October 19 th, 10.35pm_ **

Casey sprinted after Connor full tilt. Her lungs burning, legs working overtime just to keep up with the sudden burst of energy from her Android partner. They bolted down streets and across, thankfully quiet, roads heading very clearly in one direction; towards the dormant and dull spire that was Cyberlife Tower.

She huffed, nearing her limit, before stumbling over her own feet; losing sped and ground. She yelled out for Connor as he continued his race. Nearly spent, she doubled over, gasping and cursing her decision to drag him out of the isolation of his apartment. What was meant to be a quiet evening stroll had truly taken an unexpected turn. Taking a much needed deep breath she made off again, turning the corner expecting to have to try hard to make-up lost ground but was even more surprised to see Conner lying in a heap on the ground.

“Connor?!” she practically threw herself to the ground beside him, rolling him onto his back. His brown eyes were glistening, wide open and gazing emotionless into the sky. “Connor! Can you hear me? Say something! Do something! Dammit!”

Thinking straight was not coming easily to her, rational thinking overridden by the flood of adrenaline that brought her to this point. She felt useless again, it was just like before, what the hell was she supposed to do? And it wasn’t just Connor, other Androids were affected by this too. But how? Why was this happening all of a sudden? What was there to gain through this? Why was there nothing she could do?

Casey swallowed suddenly thinking, what if there was something she could do? Raising her left hand and staring at it as if it had offended her. She spent the briefest of moments just thinking before casting it aside, groaning aloud and annoyed. Pondering her few options she managed to calm herself just a little. Her mind wasn’t quick to catch up with her heart.

_I could… could I? Would that even work? The hell am I even thinking?_

As all reasoning left her, a voice she was not expecting to hear drew her from the downward spiral she’d enter.

“Oi! Rookie! The hell…!”

Casey turned lightning quick to see one Gavin Reed storming across the street. Her mind supplying the currently unanswerable question of; why the hell is he here?

The look on his face was a strange mix of his usual scowl and something, perhaps, that she might allow herself to call concern. Before she could say anything he was on his knees beside her, casting a fleeting look over Conner before turning his attention back to her. Feeling the gentle pressure of his hands taking her wrists she finally felt something like reassurance settle in her twisting stomach.

“What’s wrong with the Tinman?” Casey could only shake her head, her voice suddenly lost to her. “This has happened before right? The other week?” She nods. Reed sighs, loud, exasperated and annoyed, before taking a firmer grip on her wrists. “He’ll be alright, he’s always alright. See?”

Reed had let go with one hand to remove the hat from Connor’s head. His L.E.D happily flashing away with amber tones. Casey let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, thankfully her partner hadn’t seen fit to remove the thing. This was fine, he was fine, he _would_ be fine. She was just overreacting. As if he’d spontaneously learned telepathy Reed said the same thing, convincing her to stop worrying over nothing, and that the _idiot_ had been through worse. She couldn’t help but scoff at him.

“Told you.”

He narrows his gaze at her, teeth faintly bared as he realizes what she means. “I do _not_ care about him!” he declared shooting to his feet angrily taking a few steps away before turning back to her. Casey didn’t have to see him to know he was staring, most likely with a scowl etched deeply into his features. Her own attention is fixed firmly on Connor, his L.E.D now flashing at a more calm and steady rate, his fingers twitching as if he was trying to spur himself back to consciousness and, maybe, he was. Seeing something akin to life in him again, she let herself smile.

“Shit.” She hears Reed mumbled behind her. A looming feeling drew close and the gentle nudge at her back was less than startling. “Come on, get up.”

Casey didn’t want to, not yet. She wasn’t even sure why she was go hung up on the semi-conscious Android in front of her, she barely knew him and the limited interactions she’d had with him (not including the ones from tonight) where all entirely work related. She knew next to nothing about him, only what she’d heard from Hank; that he was dedicated, hardworking and odd in the most gentle ways. He liked retro and vintage things, listened to metal music and was very particular about who he spent his time with. His apartment was minimalist to the extreme and if her guess was correct he didn’t see himself as entirely worthy of the freedom Androids had claimed.

While she wasn’t privy to the full details of how he came to work at the DPD, she guessed from the rarity of his skillset he was who everyone once called the ‘ _Deviant_ _Hunter’_. Perhaps he still felt guilty about it all, perhaps he still felt like he was trapped by that. It would explain the motivational post-it collection in his desk drawers.

A more forceful touch from Reed had Casey being dragged literally to her feet and from her thoughts. She resented the flicker of anger that rushed her as he snatched herself back from him; he was only trying to help, in his own extremely specific and not-so helpful way. She glared at him, and his arms rose, palms to heaven, to show her he meant no harm.

“Jeez, relax will ya! If it’s anything like the other Androids he’ll be up doing his thing again in a few minutes!” he exclaimed, trying to make her see sense. “What the hell are you even doing out here? And with him?!”

“We were taking a walk.” She answers solemnly, her glare not wavering.

Reed’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Talking a walk? With him?” She nodded, before quickly kneeling down again beside Connor, rolling him over so he was lying on his back; she closed his eyes for good measure, now he looked like he was merely sleeping. She did her best to ignore the slew of disbelief falling from Reed’s lips. “Of all the people to hang out with you choose the only one that isn’t actually people? Heck! I should’ve asked earlier like was going to…”

He might have grumbled that last part but she was certain he wanted her to hear it at the same time.

“Well, you didn’t. And I felt bad about his Walkman, so-”

“So you decided to go see him? Over that?”

Casey couldn’t help but grit her teeth, standing again to face him, “The hell is your point?! Why do you care who _I_ spend _my_ time with? Nevermind _why!_ You’re starting to sound like jealous kid! Besides it isn’t important. _Connor_ is.”

There was silence and Casey was grateful for it. Her little outburst giving her the chance to blow of some excess steam and calm her nerves all the more. The revving of an engine and tyres screeching to a stop, alerted the two of them, whatever Reed had been about to say lost for the moment. When Hank stepped out they both were equally as surprised as each other, sharing a stunned look before the old Lieutenant stepped up to them looking less than pleased to be here. He first looked to Reed.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Reed glared back before turning himself away, burying his hands in his coat pockets, “Taking a walk.” Casey only just held back a laugh.

Hank regarded them both with tired and angry eyes before they softened finding Connor just behind them.

“Figured he’d be out again. Nearly every Android I passed was buffering like this.” He was regarding Connor from above, the L.E.D on his temple now a flashing blue; he’d be awake soon if the sequence of events remained consistent. If he didn’t wake up Casey didn’t know how that was going to go down, for any of them. Though she doubted Reed would really be bothered either way.

It was then recounting what Hank had just said, that he had an idea. “Wait, _nearly_ every Android, not _every_ Android?”

Hank groaned and turned to her, “Yeah. Some lady, Android. Pulled me over, asking for help. Told her all I could, just that she should wait it out. Not to panic, the usual. She didn’t seem affected at all.”

Casey’s mind was racing again, except for another reason altogether. The images of files and evidence she’d been looking at the past week flooding her minds eye and bringing her to one conclusion.

“If this, whatever it is, isn’t affecting all the Androids then there’s something that they all have in common. But what?” She brought her palm to rest on her mouth, in such deep thought that her head started to ache. Silently she cursed, beginning to pace and dismissing her own ideas with the lack of evidence to support them. She was so lost in her own speculation she missed Connor waking up, him pulling on her wrist, stopping her in her tracks, bringing her back to reality. She looked at him, gazing solidly into his eyes, seeing a twinkle of life that had been absent the last time she looked. “Connor…”

He smiled at her, though it looked like he was struggling to keep himself standing. Hank was just a step behind him, ready to catch him if he fell. Casey couldn’t quite put her finger on why or even how, but she felt like they were on the same wavelength in that moment, all doubt leaving her.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He said, breathlessly. His hold on her trembling slightly. She couldn’t help but smile to match his, feeling a warming resolve fill her chest. For once doubt not finding a place in her thoughts.


	9. What Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team tries to figure out the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and is so short, just was never happy with it. Then I hit a major case of Writer's block and couldn't bring myself to write literally anything for a good few weeks. I've updated the tags with slow to update since I'm still in that slump and don't want to say I'll have a new part up in two weeks time if I won't, current drafts are all over the place :( I know where I'm heading with this story I'm just at a loss of how to get there for now. 
> 
> Anyway hope this satisfies you for now. Enjoy.

**Near Belle-Ilse, Detroit;**

**October 19 th, 10.55pm**

Connor felt dizzy as heck. He hadn’t been certain he could feel any more dizzy than the day he was first drugged, or _infected;_ he wasn’t sure what word applied when they were both the same thing for him. Yet here he was on the exact bench he’d found Hank drinking away his annoyance close to a year ago. The same night his beloved partner had come all too close to shooting him in the head because he was being to impersonal about a very personal subject. Something he was thankful hadn’t come to pass. He’d never tell anyone how unsure of himself he was speaking back with words that would either make or break his relationship with the man. He could only be thankful things worked out the way they had.

“You can not be serious!”

Connor couldn’t help but grimace at the more than usual sour tone from Reed. He wasn’t even entirely sure how or why he was still here. The last thing he remembered was running and then seeing Hank looming over him. His recovery was much quicker than before and seeing a familiar doubt seeding in Casey’s eyes made it easy to ignore whatever Hank was saying and rush to convince her otherwise. Connor still wouldn't dare say he knew her well, but it was becoming easier to discern inklings of her thouhgts in her body language and microexpressions. Getting her to share her thoughts thought, was easier said than done. The moment Casey seemed like she was about to open up to them, to _him_ , something flickered in her eyes and instead she resorted to sputtering out mumbled words and fawning over him like he’d seen mothers worry over children. He couldn’t coherently explain why it bugged him so much. He could explain even less why Reed’s uncharacteristic helpfulness was bugging him even more.

“So, you’re saying our Metal Man here, has been _seeing_ things when he blacks out and somehow it’s all because of Cyberlife?! A corporation we all know officially doesn’t operate anymore! Just tell me how exactly this could be true!”

Connor sighs listening to him try and be the voice of reason. It was the truth as things were. Cyberlife was out of commission. Only he could _see_ the subliminal messages that led him to the conclusion it was Cyberlife behind all this; thought not in the capacity that Reed was assuming. Not every threat they posed was purely physical. It was just like Reed said, _officially_ Cyberlife were off the table. Unoffcially was a whole other issue.

As Gavin was about to spur himself on with more (no doubt) less than savoury accusation about how crazy this all was and just how much they couldn’t trust something only he could see, Connor snapped up to his feet drawing their attention. Hank looked and gruffly concerned as ever. Casey mildly troubled but also just a curious.

The silence grew awkward as he just stood there, all of them exchanging concerned glances. Connor let his gaze fall on Casey, she held his stare before glancing towards the two very annoyed men beside her. He noticed she was standing a little taller now, perhaps a little support was all she needed, or more likely it was whatever subconscious game she was playing with Reed. Their equal measures of bullheadedness didn't seem like it could work so well together and yet it did. The walk had consisted of them pulling Casey's theory from her with well worded and deliberate questions, they only way (it seemed) that they would get anything out of her for now. It had been insightful to say the least of it. But even she seemed to doubt that Cyberlife had an active role in it all. Where Connor was certain that’s where the signal was coming from, her argument of a signal reroute was also plausible.

Gavin’s short patience was already worn thin and the lingering quiet caused him to snap. “You got something to say then say it already?!”

Connor thought for another long moment, staring out at the dark spire of Cyberlife tower.

“I think you're right, rushing in isn’t going to help things. So, if you have any suggestions I’m all ears.”

Gavin scoffed, and turned away with a crude look of disbelief on his face. Connor understood, he was likely hoping to dust this under the carpet and forget about it. The fact remained that this wasn’t just affecting him, Hank had even mentioned how others had been affected by it; freezing mid-act for no apparent reason. And perhaps Casey’s theory did hold up in more ways than one. The young detective turned back to him, eyes roving over Casey (becoming softer as they did) before resting on him with a questioning glower.

“Let me get this straight. Rookie here thinks that there’s a virus embedded in Digital Ice. That whoever put it there is trying to terrorize the Android population for some reason or other. And Tinman here got infected with it the other week and thinks that his hallucinations are coming from Cyberlife Tower. What exactly where you planning to do once you got there?”

Connor hadn’t been expecting the question, let alone the genuinely sincere tone the entire speech had been framed with. Now that he tried to think about it, he hadn’t really planned anything.

“Don’t tell me you were just going to waltz in with no plan or back up? What if you happened to be right, what then? Didn't think it through did you?”

Connor could only stand there, shocked at the sudden change in character. If not for the strange glances towards Casey he’d be inclined to think that the concern was real. He simply shrugged his shoulders. Honesty was the best policy here.

“I think planning ahead was a bit beyond him at the time, right?” Casey interjected before Reed could get a chance to berate him, which was evident from the glint in his eyes and the step forward. Connor nods and she continues, “What exactly did you see this time? What is it that makes you think it’s definitely Cyberlife?”

“It would be easier if I could show you, it’s hard to explain.”

Hank grumbled, “That’s not like you, you usually explain everything in excruciating detail.”

It was true, and he didn’t appreciate the implication of him still not being himself. His brain seemed to be stuttering and stalling more and more, with every blackout he became more desperate to find a reason, to find out why this was happening and for what purpose. Explaining it felt beyond him right now, perhaps he could write it down, but that would take too long and it was far too impractical given the urgent alarms blaring in his mind. Casey, once again, stepped in becoming his saving grace more and more.

“Could you maybe, upload it to a phone… or something?” even she seemed to be sceptical of her suggestion but it was the push he needed to getting his mind in gear again. "I don't know it you can even do that..."

“Yes, can I borrow yours?” with a raised brow she less than reluctantly handed it over. 

Interfacing was easy. All technology had come to adapt a singular base programming that made everything cohesive, it made it even easier when Cyberlife introduced their own coding for the purpose of integrating more advacned Android technology. The intention was to make life as easy and seamless as possible. The complication that came with this lack of variation in the base code was overcome with the varying degrees of fluidity within it. If he had to guess, it's that what was probably being exploited now; he made that just as clear by easily unlocking the device without even asking for a password.

He couldn’t help but smirk at her shocked expression, she’d stalled obviously about to unlock it or over a password.

“Remind me to never lend you my phone again.” She laughed, still more that a little stunned.

“Why? You have something to hide?” He asked as he uploaded a compressed version of whatever he had seen in his head. It was supposed to be a video, but it wasn’t converting and the file was turning out to be massive. Her scoffing and playful denial about not having anything to hide but things that could be embarrassing only piqued his interest more. He track the transfer progress up to 43% and then the phone crashed. “Oops.”

“What do you mean oops?” Hank asked, moving to his side and seeing that the phone was dead and unresponsive to all attempts to wake it. “Right, so that didn’t work. What to try explaining it again?”

The second he thought about explaining it his mind seized and a steady ache began to emerge. It was almost like he was being forced not to share this, as the thought crossed his mind he looked to the phone. Has it died for the same reason? What there a subtle line of code worming about inside him to make sure this plot wasn’t found out before the climax.

“I don’t think I can. I want to but… its like there’s a block stopping me from understanding it. Or from sharing it.” he gestured to the phone.

“It wasn’t like that the first time was it? I remember you explaining things fine then.” Hank argued, handing the defunct device by to it thoroughly peeved owner. The Lieutenant was right though, he had been able to talk about it more easily the first time.

“Perhaps it’s time sensitive or the code is evolving. Not being able to track it makes this all the more difficult...” Connor suggested with a sigh, returning to sit on the bench beside a clearly irate Reed.

The detective, huffed and puffed, cursing under his breath about how he was unlucky to get caught up in all this. Connor tried to ignore him, but Hank’s reminder that even specialists couldn’t find any new or altered programming in him had him retreating back to the familiarity of the whispered insults beside him. Anything normal, consistent with what he already knew, he latched on to. Not knowing the answer was not something he was ever going to get used to.

Casey started pacing out of nowhere, detaching herself from the conversation her phone apparently recovered enough to be booting up. No one questioned it.

“So what now?” Gavin huffed, “because it’s nearly midnight and I’m out of ideas. Unless you know someone who can, I don't know, hack an Androids subsystems? But that would be impossbile with your whole freedom of thought now. Heck I'm pretty sure even you couldn't access your subsystems like that!”

"What about Kamski?" Connor suggested. He remembered his last encounter and tried to will himself to overlook it, there were so many questions only that man could answer maybe this was one of them.

"He's out of town for some Urban Farms fundraiser. If this is as important as you think we'll have to find someone else." Hank told him.

The ensuing argument was interrupted with a soft voice. Connor was always on the lookout for it, tuned in for fear of missing any of her insights. Connor stood, again drawing everyone to silence.

"What did you say?"

“I think I know someone who might be able to help.” She repeated.

“Who?” Hank put to her.

The disgusted grimace was not something Connor wanted to see on her face, it didn’t suit her. But he recognised it, the same annoyed expression he’d seen in the rear view mirror of Hank’s car over a week ago. The same expression made when they’d brought up someone she shown nothing less than contempt for. Her answer, for Connor at least, wasn’t surprising.

“My mother.”


	10. Family...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into what's going on through Gavin Reed's head as the team continues to search for a firm lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It's been two months and it's a whole new year but I'm back, and hopefully this all makes sense! I know i'm terrible with maintaing good continuity, but i'm working on it!
> 
> Been stuck with how to bridge this part and the next and I think this more or less works now, so please let me know what you all think! Also thank you all for the subcriptions and kudos while this was in limbo, nice to know there was still interest
> 
> Next one is in the works, stay tuned for more.

**Palmer Woods, Detroit**

**October 20th, 12.31am**

Detective Gavin Reed was never one to pry. He'd been a bit of trouble maker in his youth but had cleaned up his act once he finally found a goal worth working toward. He was ambitious to a fault, had a wickedly terse sense of humour and had a strong dislike for all things android. Driving down the amber lit street he had only one question to ask himself; why on earth was he still hanging around? The obvious reason that came to mind was curiosity, however he would be lying if he claimed it was the only reason. Sitting beside him in the passenger seat was the Rookie (and reason) herself. She was quiet for the most part, only speaking up to direct him as they neared her mother’s abode. It seemed to him the closer they got the more quietly tense she became.

From all that Reed knew about her, he would be the first to say that upper class and well-off were not phrases that came to mind when he looked at her. She wore the most casual non-brand clothing, brought a homemade lunch to work most days, used a crappy second hand phone; and yet as they drove, with Hank and Connor following close behind, the houses became bigger and more grandiose and before long they were pulling up into a gravelled driveway stopping in front of grand façade with stone pillars and all framing an otherwise plain wooden door. It was far from the tiny apartment he had imagined her growing up in.

He pulled the handbrake and little too rough and killed the engine, the growl of Hank’s old clunker fading out behind them shortly after. He took a moment to just look at the place, despite the peaceful appearance there was something heavy in the air, the late night fog giving the would-be sereneness an ominous undertone that made him feel like he was trespassing. He wouldn't want to come here alone any day of the week, no matter what was being offered in recompense.

“You grew up here?” he asks, gazing ahead of them. There’s silence and he turns to her in concern only to find her staring at the house matching his glare, almost as if she was willing the building to collapse. If this was her childhood home it held no pleasant memories.

After a while, she takes a deep breath and relaxes enough to answer him, “No. This is… more recent.”

Failing to elaborate she quickly hops out of the car leaving him behind to ponder what secrets she's holding. She hurries up the few steps towards the front door. Just as quickly he rushes to follow her and is soon by her side.

Hank, and the resident problem Plastic Detective, were already climbing the same steps to join them when he looked back. Gavin watched as Connor stared her out, his expression not blank but otherwise unreadable and so irksome that he was forcred to grit his teeth with effort to stop himself from snapping at him. Casey didn’t seem to notice, her gaze fixed firmly on the key pad as he enters an unnecessarily long password. Talk about secure.

_'Why not just use a fingerprint key? Or any other kind of digital lock?'_

“You’re sure your mum can help with this?” Hank asks. Casey doesn’t answer at first, as she mashes the enter key only to get deep accusing buzz and a red light in response. She frowns beginning to type again, only slower this time. Pressing enter with a little more force they all wait for the fanfare and accompanying series of clicks as the door unlocks.

“You could say my mother is an Android expert of sorts. She went to University with Kamski, even helped him with the whole start-up of Cyberlife way back. If she can't do anything then I don't know who else could.”

The silence that fell between them was understandable, there was no time to delve deeper to into that as she opened the door strolling into the foyer, automated lights flickering to life at their presence and the sterile white of the foyer blinding them all for a second. It looked as if no one was home or hadn’t been in a while. Then again it was nearly one in the morning, it was likely the woman was asleep.

“Okay… well this looks homey.” Hank drawled, letting the door close behind him. “Your mother will be alright with us showing up at this time in the morning?”

A door further down the hall opened suddenly with a mechanical woosh, another automation no doubt. They all watched as the Android (and it’s obvious from the still present LED) approaches them. They bare a classic female appearance, not unlike the early RT600 models or _‘Choles’_ at they were more commercially known. It’s appearance has been modified though; long dark hair framing and overly pleased ‘happy to see you’ expression. Reed was certain it was programmed with the intention of acting as Hostess.

As the Android’s short heels clicked across the tiled floor, Casey took the time to answer.

“It wouldn't matter if it this time in the afternoon. We don’t really get along so she'd complain either way.”

The despondent tone is new to him, her usual upbeat self seemed locked behind bars and far away like she was preparing for something they couldn't see. Her usually bright eyes dim, but like all the questions Reed was certain his male companions also had, any inquiry was left untouched as the Android finally slowed to a stop a few feet before them. All his musings where confirmed. Definitely a Chloe model. Custom built. Reed has to wonder if this was a gift from Kamski himself or (if Casey is serious about her mother’s expertise) a potentail pet project.

“Miss Cassandra.” The Android chimes, the falseness of a sincere and programmed smile clear on it's face. “You aren’t expected until next week. How can I help you?”

Reed and the others remain silent as Casey deals with the _Chole,_ quickly; only providing the most basic details of the situation. An unidentifiable hacking occurrence that’s becoming widespread in the Android population and nothing further. She all but demands to see her mother only calling the woman by her given name of Maria.

The _Chole_ finally relents their questioning and heads upstairs, presumably to fetch said ‘Maria’ but not before directing them all to the lounge to wait. The lounge itself, is just as grand as the rest of the house if not just as plain. If this medical aura was the basis of the décor for the entire home it was understandable for even Casey to feel uncomfortable. No one he knew liked being in a hospital at the best of times, living in something so like one had to be on another level of discomfort. Reed felt a chill rush him just at the thought. 

The silence goes on for too long and in an attempt to break the silence and rising tension hanging in the air Reed decides to feed his curiosity.

“So… Cassandra?” he smirked at her eyeroll. “You visit your mother… sorry, do you visit _Maria,_ often?”

“Once a month.” She said bluntly, yet again not caring to continue. For someone who had talked his ears off the last week about anything an everything, she sure was being quiet now.

He knows he’s not the only one wanting to ask answers, why a monthly visit to a woman she clearly doesn’t want to be anywhere near. Why come to a house that makes her clam up so completely she becomes a different person. He doesn’t ask. Neither does Hank, and Connor continues to watch her closely, but like the rest of them he stays quiet; also unlike himself. As much as he hates the Bot, he doesn’t actually _hate_ him. It's just Connor annoys the absolute crap out of him, him and every Android with thier precision and lack of human error. Reed got shat on all the time for making mistakes but Mr Perfect Android’s record was crystal clear, and devoid of anything other than merit after merit. 

The urge to punch the Android swells in him. Instead he throws himself violently on one of the many black leather couches taking in the room. He hated it, genuinely hated it. It did more than annoy him. He wanted to take a can of green paint and splatter the walls and furniture alike. It would introduce some indication of life. It was too clean. The few walls and surfaces that were adorned bore simple framed photos… not a single one of Casey or anyone resembling her; plenty of cooperate nobodies ins suits and a recurring dark haired dame, who he assumed was Maria, shaking hands and rubbing elbows.

Just as he’s about to open his mouth to ask about her father, a man he knows had a fair reputions, he’s stopped by an ungodly yell and cursing from upstairs getting closer. Before long, a door is rushed open and the woman of the hour storms in, wearing a silk nighty; the same long raven hair laced with the odd grey, tied back in a messy knot. She looks like rage personified, old wrinkles forced to stretch deeper as she scowled at her daughter. Gavin has to stop himself from instinctively swallowing. He’s not afraid, he's had ex-partners scarier than this. But this woman, by merely storming, sleep deprived, into her own living room has put the fear of god in him. He glances to Hank, the old copper is glancing worriedly between the deranged woman and his Rookie. Old eyes eventually falling towards him and they share the same concerned look. Meanwhile Connor is still calmly observing the events unfold either too taken in the act of gleaning any little bit of information from the encounter or perhaps once again blacking out. The urge to punch him only grew.

“Have you any idea what time it is you brat?” Maria scolds, storming right up to her daughter barely an inch from her face. The woman towers several inches above her. Maria grabs at her right arm pulling it up and regarding it, “What’s wrong now that you had to-”

“Stop! Just listen first, for once. Okay?!” Casey snaps snatching her hand back. “This isn’t about me.”

And then, once again, began the long recount of everything they knew. Gavin could count on being able to recite the tale word for word before dawn.

What was more surprising was how Maria's scowl became an expression extreme dourness, and when all the important business was finally in the open it was quiet. Maria, dressed in nothing but her nightdress and slippers, turned to Connor. A familiar flicker of an accepted challenge not unlike the one he often saw in Casey's eyes.

"Let's have a look shall we."

[*]

**Palmer Woods, Detroit**

**October 20th, 7.45am**

It’s not the whirring of machines or the loud obnoxious snoring of Hank, which is far to close for some reason, but the creeping light of dawn that finally wakes Reed. He’s not sure when exactly he managed to fall asleep between the noise and aggravated snapping between mother and daughter throughtout the night but he did and he feels terrible for it. The weight on his shoulder becomes more apparent as he comes to and he revels in the comfort of the body heat pressing against him until he realizes its Hank. He jumps to his feet letting the old detective slump over in the plethora of cushions. The man must sleep like the dead as not even that seems to wake him.

Cursing himself, Reed fixes his shirt before noticing a few people are missing. As he walks the halls and wakes up more his memory returns. Casey had explained expertly, Maria had listened. Soon after Connor was being carted off to a specialised room for all of Maria’s projects. Casey refused to let the woman be alone with the Android; likely for a good reason. Reed wasn’t too fussed, if the Tinman came back with a few parts missing it would probably be for the better.

After a few tedious hours of watching the older woman play with code and waiting for apparently nothing he’d eventually returned to the main lounge. He scoured the few shelves for something to read but Advance Robotic Theory wasn’t exactly light reading before bed or something he was remotely interested in. The basics were more than enough and even that was too much for him.

Now, he let himself wander back towards the makeshift lab at the back of the large house taking his time and popping joints as he went, the release a welcome relief serving to wake him little by little as he went. He slowed, softening his steps to barely-there echoes on the hard floor hearing muffled yet raised voices. He slows even more as he comes to the door, the words becoming clearer, until he stops resting by the open door.

“… due for an upgrade soon anyway! Just let me-“

“No. I’m not telling you again. I’m only here for Connor. No! I mean, to figure out what’s going on with him and the rest of the Androids. Nothing else! So just stop pushing.” Casey snapped, cutting off her mother’s concerned proposition.

“I’m your mother. I know and do what’s best for you.”

 _“Step-mother._ You only do what benefits you. What is it this time, wireless interfacing? Does it pick up signals from the NSS?! What else could I possibly need?” Casey was whisper screaming now.

“It would be helpful in your current line of work, Cassandra.”

Reed didn't have to see Casey's face to know she was incensed, he'd seen it enough to know the look and the exasperated sighed that followed was telling. Somehow he felt like they weren’t talking about something as simple as a phone upgrade, but the possibilities of what else were plenty. His mind snaps back to her first day, how he’d accused her of being an Android, and how she’d conveniently not even so much as denied it… she hadn’t even bothered to give him a straight answer. Shaking his head he stopped himself, couldn’t let himself get into that way of thinking, he’d been trying his damndest to get out of that perpetual headspace. Like it or not he had to get used to the new world where Androids were just himself, like the common man. Where they lived side by side with him. Sure he kept snapping at Connor but the Android was just so… robotic, impersonal. It was like he was still trying to follow a set of rules, rules that no longer applied, that hadn’t existed in the first place. Annoying is what it was, how Hank put up with him as a partner he’d never know. Most advanced model his ass, it was glaringly obvious that Connor wasn’t human, Deviant or not, and his stubbornness regarding his LED wasn’t helping anyone think otherwise.

His thoughts were interrupted when Casey scoffed again.

“You really don’t listen. You never listened to Dad why should I expect you to listen to me.”

“Quite right. Now, I’ll prepare the parts, it won’t take long. Your colleagues will wake soon, I’m sure they’ll be curious to see what we can find.”

Hearing footsteps approach, Reed took a few strides away and tried to make a faux approach look as natural looking as possible. Maria exited the lab, her eyes widening as they met his. He felt his lips curl up in that same awkward smile he gave to co-workers he barely knew when he passed them in the hallways; not quite genuine but sincere enough to pass.

“Ah, someone’s already awake. What time is it anyway?” The older woman asks, keeping the door as blocked as possible for some reason. The sound of metal and rushed movements doesn’t go unnoticed, but for now ignored.

“Nearly eight I think.” He answers.

“Is it? I’ll have Ivy prepare something for breakfast then.” She said marching down the hall.

Reed lets her go and holds himself back from rushing into the room where Casey is now putting away individual pieces of a small tool set. She keeps her eyes focused on putting them in their place until he clears his throat; then she looks up.

“ Who's Ivy? Thought the droid was called Una?” he asks, letting his gaze float over a currently unconscious Connor; it's the most human he's ever looked.

Casey followed his gaze and was considerate of her answer. “There’s Eleven actually.”

“Eleven?” His mind wants to gloss over the fact that he thinks she just said that 11 Androids resided in the house but it just can't because to him one is more than enough. Why so many, how many roles needed filled that one Android couldn’t. Wasn't illegal to use them like that now?

“Yeah, eleven, each with their own role and special features. All customized to her liking. Each named with a numerical twist. She’s a bit of a maths enthusiast. Una was the first, Ivy the fourth; you know, like roman numerals IV. That in the corner, that’s Doce, or it will be when she’s done. Before you ask, they chose to be subservient... apparently."

Casey lets an easy silence fall between them. Gavin’s pretty sure it’s the most relaxed she’d been since arriving. He likes to think it's his presence. It’s nice, reminds him of working next to her in the office. She’s focused, finishing up returning the fine-tuned and small tools to their proper place for the next time they’ll be needed. Her face is calm despite the heated argument he just overheard, it’s as if it never happened. He doesn’t think it appropriate to even try and bring it up since he wasn’t supposed to hear in the first place so he tries a different approach.

“So, your step-mum, think she can fix my phone with an infinite call plan?” he asks, only half-joking but it would be something he’d be more than willing let go under the table. When he meets her confused gaze he pauses. “What?”

“How’d you know she wasn’t my real mum?”

Crap. For all the care he’d tried to take, he’d went and stumbled at the first hurdle. He could recover from this easy though. “Uh, lucky guess? The way you two were fighting all night, I just assumed…” he rubbed his neck, trying to feign an awkwardness that was all too real at that moment.

Her eyes went a little wide and then he noticed her cheeks turn a tint of red. “That obvious huh? We’ve never got along.”

Another long silence and then a loud beeping began from a nearby monitor that was hooked up to Connor. Casey was up in a flash, muting the din and pressing buttons.

“What’s happening? He still with us?”

Casey watches the screens, paragraphs, lines upon lines of code scrolling by as she answers. “Yes, he’s with us. Maria forced his systems through a full defrag and it’s taking a while. But looks like it’s nearly done.”

He hones in on the one word his mind doesn’t fully comprehend with regards to Androids.

“Defrag?”

She leans towards him prepared to explain, “Um, Defragmentation, it’s a way of compile fragmented or broken files into one place. Makes it easier to access files, gets rid of all the junk and optimizes for faster processing speeds. His databanks were so out of whack Maria couldn’t access anything without something else trying to close it down. With this done, we should be able to access the subsystems with no further issues.”

Reed nodded along with her explanation. “So, a defrag, like what my pc does?”

Her smirk relieves him a little more and what little tension there was goes entirely, “Exactly the same.”

Not long later and sooner expected Connor opens his eyes. He shoots uprights without warning, pulling the machines still hooked up to him from their rightful places with loud clashes and bangs. Casey’s over to him like a shot, and Reed moves on instinct to help. Her hands rush to support Connor as he leans to far over the edge of the table threatening to fall. Reed is peeved to find himself doing the same thing, only snatching his shirt and pulling him back knowing the weight of an Android would probably be too much for her handle. There's a few lingering moments before Connor looks at him and the vague emptiness of his eyes is replaced with recognition.

“Detective Reed.” Connor greets, blinking a lot oh so unnecessarily. Gavin grimaces at the formality, the one thing he loathed more than the Tinman’s existence.

“Fuck sake, Scrap-metal, just call me Gavin. No need for titles.” He barks at him. He loathes even more the pleased and easy smile that grows on the Androids face. Reed lets go of his shirt as if it had burned him, pushing the Android back onto the table, “Don’t make that face at me! It’s creeping me out!”

Casey just laughs, “I think it’s a good look for him. You too if you would just smile more often.”

Reed resents that, he’s smiles all the time. Though whether his confident smirks look as relaxed or pleasant as the one still plastered (and growing wider) on Connor’s face is clearly up for debate. Connor sways a bit where he sits, and Reed supresses the urge to support him again. The droid can collapse for all he cares, might fix his stupid smiling face. Thankfully Maria returns with Hank on her coattails and a Chloe model (presumably Ivy, with short red hair) carrying a tray of steaming beverages.

“Help yourself.” Maria says as she waves them away from Connor. Reed forgoes the hot drink and watches as she reconnects a few wires to the panel on his chest. “How do you feel?”

Connor regards his hands wiggling his fingers like he’s using them for the first time. He ponders for too long until they’re all looking at him in anticipation. “Tingley?” he finally says, “Everything feels faster, almost too fast.”

Maria beams, clapping her boney hands together, “Brilliant. Now, I’m going to dive straight in. Don’t be alarmed if you start seeing past images overlapping with the present while I do this, it happens.”

“You’ve done this before?” Gavin presses, watching with bated breath as Maria presses keys on the screen and Connor’s LED begins flickering, his whole being shivering with it.

“Not this exactly but my own undecaplet of Androids where given similar treatment to ensure peak performance at all times.”

“Your what?” Hank asks, nearly choking on the coffee.

“Undecaplet. It means a group of 11.”

"You have eleven Androids?!" Hanks continues.

“She has a thing for numbers.” Casey added in hoping that it would end there. Gavin knowing what he did, wasn’t up for hearing it explained again. Unless it was to do with a case repetition was annoying.

It didn’t quite end there.

“I think you’ll find you helped name them.” Maria snapped at her. The woman’s eyes never left the screen pulling lines of code on to a bigger screen and zoning in on apparent points of interest unknown to him. Gavin was awed at how much alike the _Step-_ mother and daughter seemed to be despite not being related by blood. But then environment exposure had always been a factor in a person’s personality. Casey huffed and turned too looking at the amassed lines of code.

Hank stepped forward, Connor having been silent for too long. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Yes. This is odd, seeing our early interactions like this. I’m am glad things turned out for the better.” Connor’s LED began flickering amber so violently it matched the saccades of his currently unseeing eyes. He seemed to grimace before schooling his features back to blankness becoming of a corpse.

“Me too.” The old officer reminisced.

“I can see you all but not? It’s hard to explain. Like a ghost of an image is taking over.”

“That doesn’t look right. That’s not normal.” Casey mumbles, catching all their attention. She watching the code like a hawk and wearing a deep frown. Maria practically leaps at her, demanding to know what. “The code, it’s changing itself and then reverting back to the original lines. See…”

She points to a specific line of code Maria had picked out, the line flickers vanishing before reappearing by way of rewriting itself anew and then it does the same again before steadily flowing across the screen in its original order.

“You sure the screen isn’t just busted, I just see flickering.” Hanks grumbles. Gavin mutters something about the old man needing glasses, because he saw it clear as day.

“You’re certain?” Maria presses.

“This is importnat. I wouldn’t lie about this!” she snaps. “Use your wonderous skill and watch it. It changes and changes back. Like a second layer of code weaving into the base code... or something... maybe...”

“It that even possible?” Reed asks, his limited knowledge of Androids and coding from high school failing to tell him anything but that it shouldn’t be possible. Maria’s next words confirm at much.

"It shouldn't be..."

Silence settles on them, then Casey asks the last thing on their minds.

“Can you trace it?”

Maria turns to her the glimmer of an accepted challenge in her eyes. “Of course I can. But I’ll only do this if you get that upgrade. Today, before you leave.”

"But I-!" Casey tries to argue.

"Cassandra."

Reed knows the moments she gives up the fight, see the fires die in her eyes and her shoulders slack. She raises her left arm a fraction, fist balled before letting it fall slack to her side too.

"Fine." she sighs, completely resigned to her fate. Reed concludes there and then for certain. They were definitely not talking about phone upgrades.


End file.
